


Into the Woods

by TaraLaurel1



Category: Merlin (TV), Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: AU, Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Merlin, Alternate Universe - Robin Hood, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Merlin, BBC's Robin Hood, Bandits & Outlaws, Bromance, Crossover, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s04e03 The Wicked Day, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Male Friendship, Multi, Poor Merlin, Protective Arthur, Protective Merlin, Protective Robin, Romance, Suspense, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 52,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraLaurel1/pseuds/TaraLaurel1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When tragedy shakes Camelot, Merlin must flee for his very life, only to have it put in danger once more when he stumbles upon Sherwood and its outlaw occupants. What secrets does this new stranger hold of his past? How can Robin help him? How can Arthur forgive him? Who can stop the Sheriff and Morgana? And who - can save Merlin - from others, and himself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Of Dirt and Memories

**Author's Note:**

> TITLE:Into the Woods
> 
> CHAPTER/TITLE:Chapter One/Of Dirt and Memories
> 
> RATING:T (just to be safe)
> 
> A/N:I have just about ALL of this written! Whohoo. (only about half of it typed up so far) I love Merlin and I love Robin Hood so I had to combine them. Obviously, I'm bending time a bit here, but really? It's AU. And it's all fiction anyway. Takes place for Merlin, after 4x3. Takes place for Robin Hood, in between Seasons 1 and 2. The central focus is on Merlin, with lots of Robin, Much, Will, Djaq, John, Allan, Sheriff, Gisborne, Marian in the beginning, and (DON'T WORRY) quite a lot of Arthur, Gwen, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan, Leon later. Enjoy!
> 
> DISCLAIMER:I don't own Merlin or Robin Hood.
> 
> P.S. I realized finally at chapter 20, I had been spelling Gisborne, as Gisbourne. Please forgive me for this and try to ignore my error! Thank you!

_Into the woods we traveled, with little fear and dought,  
Into the woods we traveled, with no way out._

_Into the woods we traveled, with thoughts of the new day,  
Into the woods we traveled, with you and me._

_Into the woods we traveled, with hopes of a new way,  
Into the woods we traveled, with no more cares of our ways._

_Without Fear, We conquered the way  
Without Sorrow, We sit here today_

_To tell this tale one more day, seems to be my only way  
For into the woods we traveled, to never see the light of day_

_Brad Combs_

The dirt danced depressingly underneath Merlin's boots. He kicked up loose ground as he trudged forward, watching wearily as it leapt lazily into the air and then fell back to the earth from which it came. It was an odd sort of thing. Merlin had walked plenty of roads before. But these were all new roads. New dirt. It was still from the same earth, but not nearly the same ground. He could even see the difference. They way the color dusted his shoes in a new shade. The stones he did not recognize. The weeds and plants he stepped over that he had never laid eyes upon before.

Same earth. Different land.

It was just as he was.

Same Merlin. Different life.

How everything had changed still sent tremors of emotions through his entire being. How even mundane things such as walking caused him deep thought.

The woods he hiked through now were beautiful. It reminded him of the forests in Camelot. He supposed it was the one familiarity he allowed himself to hold with his old life. He had retreated into the woods that day, and never left them. Wherever he traveled, he did so through the forests. It filled him with a sense of fondness and fear at the same time for it seemed that every time Merlin had found himself in the forest, he also found himself in trouble. He trembled as memories of his father fading in his arms, of Morgana, of a mace against his chest, of Arthur being shot with an arrow, of far too many horrors, came upon him.

Merlin braced himself for what he knew would come next. Once the gates were cracked open, he could never stop it.

He saw Gaius and his mother. He looked up Gwen's kind smile and remembered Gwaine's infectious, yet irritating, laugh. And always, he saw Arthur. Images of the king flooded him. All the teasing, laughter, shared secrets, moments of brotherhood, everything.

Including the very last time he saw his former master and friend.

Including the raw hate that had filled his face.

Merlin shook off the dirt and memories. He had to leave them behind. He had to leave Arthur behind.

So, the young traveler kicked up his feet and continued forward.

He was still clearing his head when the sound struck him. Horses. At least three of them. And men talking. It was something so ordinary, and yet, Merlin could not ignore the sudden burning warning in his stomach.

With a small glance behind him, Merlin stepped off the path and stole into the trees. He didn't know exactly why he was hiding, or what he was hiding from. Still, Merlin had been in enough dangerous situations that he no longer questioned this feeling.

The wizard waited quietly amongst the woodland as the strangers passed. As they seemed to take no notice of him, Merlin released a slight satisfied sigh. The sound soon shifted into a small scream as a blade bore into his back.

"Who are you and why are you spyin' on us?"

Merlin suddenly recalled the third horse that had strode by had been lacking a rider. He could have kicked himself for failing to realize he had been spotted sneaking into the shrubbery.

"I wasn't spying, honest," Merlin swallowed strangely as he spoke.

"So we now know who you are," the man spat. "A liar."

"I swear, I wa –"

The blade twisted threateningly against Merlin's coat and he fell silent.

"Name," his attacker grunted.

"Merlin."

"Where you from, boy?"

The traveler hesitated. He wasn't sure how truthful he should really be.

"Speak, or be silenced."

"I am from nowhere," Merlin quickly supplied. "I am a traveler. That is all."

"Nowhere, huh?" Merlin didn't need to be facing the man to know that he was sneering. "No home means no one to miss you. What'd ya think, Samuel?"

A full bodied man who seemed far too large to be riding any animal, let alone the poor beautiful white stallion he was currently drawing forward on. He eyed Merlin in a way that made the boy feel like a slab of meat.

"Scrawny," Samuel scoffed, "but he could still be useful. With slavery outlawed and Hood puttin' the fear 'a God into those traders, there ain't much on the market. Plenty 'a folk willin' to buy Christians. Not like the king'll ever know."

"We could always keep 'im for ourselves," a snake like man with charcoal hair that matched his horse sneered. "He looks – fun."

"Just so long as you don't accidently kill 'em the first night like the last one," the one Merlin still couldn't see spoke.

"He was fragile," the serpent hissed.

"Well, this one looks as breakable as a twig," the man behind Merlin chuckled.

Despite his circumstances, Merlin scowled. He didn't quite enjoy being spoken about as if he wasn't there, and he certainly didn't appreciate being described in such a way. People always underestimated him. Yet, of course, he couldn't much blame these men. Merlin knew he must look pretty pitiful. What, with walking nearly nonstop for days on end, hardly pausing for food or rest. And then there was his magic. Always there. Always pounding against the underside of his skin. Still, he caged it inside of him. Something that was so much a part of him,  _every_  part of him, being suffocated for such a long period of time – was killing him.

"We'll see what we can get for 'im," Samuel ordered. "If there are no takers, then he's all yours Micah."

Merlin didn't desire to be anyone's property, but he was  _certain_  that he most definitely did not want to be Micah's. Merlin cried out and struggled as suddenly strong arms seized him. His magic rushed to the surface, but Merlin swallowed it down. Sure no one else would see, but he still didn't want to risk something going wrong.

Again.

So, choking down his powers, Merlin was securely bound around his wrists. The rope lead like a leash to a cart behind Samuel's steed. Merlin studied the contents carefully. Weapons, suspected stolen goods and scraps of food. Of course the swords and other weaponry were kept near the front, far out of the captive's reach.

Merlin hated the forest.

He trudged along as the group of bandits began to move forward. This time he paid no attention to the dirt.


	2. Bait

_If you go down to the woods today_ __  
You're sure of a big surprise  
If you go down to the woods today  
You better go in disguise  
For every bear that ever there was  
Will gather there for certain because  
Today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic

_Teddy Bear's Picnic, by Jerry Garcia_

It was nearing dark when Merlin's legs started to sway. He stumbled and staggered but refused to fall. As exhausting and agonizing the trip was now, he did not fancy dragging in the dirt for the rest of the journey. They surely had to stop and rest soon, the prisoner reasoned. They could not force him to travel like this in the black of the night. He would most certainly trip and fall then.

He was about to foolishly open his mouth to question his capture's when the party suddenly stopped.

"Look what we have here, lads," Samuel spoke in a sharp whisper.

Merlin tried to follow the men's line of sight in the dark. His gaze caught the flicker of a fire and he narrowed his eyes toward the shadows surrounding it.

"How many?" The man Merlin had learned was called Bear questioned.

"Six," Micah answered. "All men. Two of 'em are pretty small."

"Take a look at that big one," Bear whistled.

"Only one man that big in these parts," Samuel's voice was smiling. "And look, recognize 'im?"

"Hood?" Micah questioned excitedly.

"Hood," Samuel confirmed.

"So what?" Bear grunted. "They don't got no money. They're as useless as this one." Merlin ddint need to look up to know he was being pointed at.

"Hood and 'is men might not  _'ave_  money," Samuel mused merrily, "but they would be  _worth_ money. A lot 'a money."

"Sheriff would throw us a pretty penny for snatchin' Hood and all his friends," Micah agreed.

"Then what are we waitin' for?" Bear guffawed.

"Timing, my old friend," Samuel answered softly. "Timing – and bait."

Merlin suddenly felt icy irises on him.

"Looks like our little friend here just might be 'a some use yet."

Merlin tensed as the man dismounted and drew dangerously closer to his prisoner.

"You know how to scream, boy?"

"I won't help you hurt anyone," Merlin managed to mask his fright and fatigue with defiance.

"Ah, very well," Samuel shrugged. "This way it will be more  _believable._ "

Merlin vaguely noticed as Bear and Micah slowly were slipping into the shadows. His focus went fuzzy though, as a hand crash against the side of his face. Merlin tilted and then toppled over, tangling himself in the rope that acted as his bonds and leash. He was no longer concerned with the bindings though, as Samuel's heavy weight came down upon him.

Merlin silently struggled against the man's blows. Through the pain, he forced his throat and lips closed.

"Scream, boy," Samuel ordered. "That Hood can't resist helpin' the pathetically helpless."

"You're the only pathetic person I see," Merlin ground out. "Too afraid to attack a man while sleeping in his own camp. Too cowardly to face him. Having to play on his heart. To surprise him and surround him while he's distracted with me. That is your plan, right? Just one problem," Merlin's eyes and voice darkened. "He can't save me, if he can't hear me."

"Then you will be dead." Samuel ground out with a punch to punctuate each word.

"I will be happy to die knowing you did not win whatever game you plan on playing with an innocent man. I have faced far worse than you, a mere coward. I don't know this man you seek, but if my death can save him, I willingly and happily will die."

"So be it."

Merlin felt something solid connect with the side of his skull and then nothing more. His world turned as black as the sky.

"Help!" Samuel's shouts split the silence of the night. "Someone please help me!"

Down in the clearing below, a sleeping man stirred into immediate wakefulness. He sprang from his spot, sprinting toward the sound. A petite and dark skinned figure swiftly followed, the others wrestling between slumber and waking. The two raced readily to the stranger's cries.

"Oh, thank heavens," the actor all but burst into false tears. "It's my son! He's fallen off his horse! I told 'im not to go riding through the woods at night. He's just so stubborn. When his horse came back without 'im, I had to go looking for 'im."

"It was very dangerous for either of you to be out here at night," the brunette man warned as he knelt next to the boy.

"He's my son," Samuel protested. "I couldn't sit by and do nothing. He's a good lad. He just doesn't listen."

The outlaw leaned over the fallen youth carefully, examining him. Even in the dark, his always alert eyes landed on the marks decorating his wrists.

"How did you know someone was out here to call for help?" He questioned suspiciously.

"I saw your fire," Samuel supplied.

"We could've been anybody," Robin shook his head. "There are dangerous folk in this forest. Thieves, criminals."

Samuel didn't miss the hidden suggestion behind the words and hastily signaled his men.

"This boy's injuries are from no fall," Djaq spoke Robin's thoughts.

The two were risking to take the defensive just as the hidden men made themselves known. Their arrows were both directed toward the brunette.

"Three men," Robin openly laughed, "against  _us_? Do you know who I am?"

"I know  _exactly_ who you are, Hood," Samuel spat as he suddenly seized the man's companion. "And I know how easy it is to take you down. I don't have to attack all of you," he nodded at the circle of now very much awake and very much armed men that had joined the confrontation. "All I need is one. Come with us, or your friend here dies."

"Leave," Robin warned, "or you will die." He paused and glanced from the limp boy on the ground to his friend being held hostage. "Are you really this desperate? Taking a boy? Coming after  _us_?"

"You made it like this!" Samuel snarled. "We outlaws are hunted like  _dogs_ thanks to you. They look for you and find us! Two of my men hanged in your name!"

"I do not take pleasure in your men's deaths, but that does not give you the right to do what you do. We are outlaws because we believe in a free England. In helping people.  _You_ are outlaws because you with to harm others."

"Well, I will  _harm_ this one here soon if you do not come with us to the sheriff."

"The sheriff?" The large man beating a stick against his hand bellowed. "You think he will give anything to outlaws? Your only reward will be to swing."

"You really are desperate," Robin shook his head glumly.

"Determined," Samuel corrected. "I will kill him," he wrenched his captive closer, bringing a knife to kiss his throat. "And then I will kill the boy. You've been known to sacrifice yourself for strangers before."

"You won't have time to touch him," Robin's voice was dangerous, "because the  _second_ you do anything to hurt Djaq, my men  _will_ be desperate. Desperate to put you down. I don't condone needless killing, but I will not stop them."

"Then my men will strike you down," Samuel countered coldly.

"You think we haven't played this game before?" Robin chuckled. "You are certainly not the first with this plan."

"I plan on being the last." He grunted arrogantly.

The blade caressed Djaq's neck almost tenderly. Before it could even knick her skin, a sharp stabbing sensation shot through Samuel's leg. He barely had enough time to glance down at a half conscious, but grinning, Merlin before Djaq was making her escape. She twisted easily out of his grip, landing a few properly and painfully placed punches in the process. The other two bandits barely had time to process it all before arrows and swords were greeting them. They both clumsily and quickly dropped their weapons in surrender. Robin wondered playfully if they were going to reach their hands to the sky they were so terrified.

"Leave," Robin ordered. "Leave these woods and these lands. If I see you again, you will be dead."

The criminals climbed onto their horses without anymore words and took off into the night.

Making certain they were truly gone, Robin then returned to the young stranger's side.

"Nice kick," Djaq complimented the boy.

Merlin could merely offer a small smile as he struggled to his feet. Robin and John promptly placed their hands on his arms to help when they noticed his difficulty.

"Are you alright?" Robin examined him.

The stranger was thin, almost scarily so. He was pale, even in the faint moonlight. His ivory skin was slowly discoloring with new birthing bruises. His wrists were raw, almost as red as the scrapes and scratches decorating his face. His dark hair was matted with something Robin could not see in the dim light.

It was only when the boy began to crumple to the forest floor that Robin saw it clearly. The man stepped forward to catch the falling stranger. It was then that he noticed the thick, scarlet substance staining his skull.


	3. Safe

_AH, could I lay me down in this long grass_

_And close my eyes, and let the quite wind_

_Blow over me-I am so tired, so tired_

_Of passing pleasant places! All my life,_

_Following Care along the dusty road,_

_Have I looked back at loveliness and sighed;_

_Yet at my hand an unrelenting hand_

_Tugged ever, as I passed. All my life long_

_Over my shoulder have I looked at peace;_

_And now I would fain lie in this long grass_

_And close my eyes…_

_Journey, by Edna St. Vincent Millay_

Merlin's heart was beating.

Inside his head.

He may not have been the best physician's assistant, but some part of he knew that wasn't normal.

How was his heart inside his skull? And why did it insist on beating his brain like a blunt instrument?

Begrudgingly dragging open unusually weighted eyelids, Merlin crawled out of the noisy darkness, only to be assaulted instead by sharp sunlight. The bright rays attacked his senses, sending the heartbeat in his head to burst.

A soft groan involuntarily escaped Merlin's lips and suddenly there were voices surrounding him. The drum in his skull seemed to drown them out and Merlin knew on some level he would unfortunately have to force his eyes open once more to understand what was going on.

He peeled back his lashes even farther, slowly this time, blinking and squinting until the offending light became bearable. Shapes and silhouettes took form above him, his vision still clouded as it adjusted.

" – hear me?"

"How – he?"

" – waking u–"

Vaguely, Merlin realized the voices and shadows were talking about him. He clawed at the back of his muddled mind to retrieve lost memories.

He had been walking in the forest.

_Well, that doesn't help much._

He had been doing just as much for so many days Merlin had lost count several sunsets ago.

_Think._

Merlin forced himself to dig through the mud and tune out the drums.

_Bandits. A fire._

Merlin hissed in pain at the memory of fists against his body. A hand came against his forehead and the semi-conscious wizard flinched on instinct, struggling to free himself from the silhouettes.

"Calm –"

"– safe –"

Merlin wasn't listening. All he could see, all he could think of, were his captures – and agony.

Merlin suddenly began to thrash and writhe, the heartbeat inside his head none too happy as his did so. Again, he grunted in anguish at the angry drumming.

"Let – let me – go," Merlin murmured, frustrated at the lack of strength behind the demand.

"Djaq, let - of – arms." A soft, yet firm voice sounded, splashing against his brain. "John, - his legs."

"He will hurt himself," An odd accented voice greeted Merlin's thrumming ears.

" – trust me," the soft one replied.

Merlin felt the weight of the shapes' hands and arms disappear. The panic that had seized him slowly subsided as sense began to take rule over his mind once more.

"See?" The stranger spoke. "You're safe."

Merlin blinked again as the world came into foggy focus. A brunette man with a kind smile was the first thing he saw. His eyes wandering, they finally landed on a dark skinned boy with cropped black hair.

The rest of the memory came crashing forward like a violent wave. He winced and swallowed and tried to settle his stomach that seemed to start to rebel.

"Are – are you alright?" He asked the black haired boy who had been held hostage, his compassion and concern overriding his own fear and pain.

"I am," he nodded, "thanks to you. But I should be asking you that question. How are you feeling?"

Merlin closed his eyes momentarily, cursing the clamor still charging on inside his head.

"Never better."

The two above him chuckled and the brunette Merlin now remembered as Robin carefully assisting him to sit up properly.

"You were hit on the head," the boy called Djaq explained. "It is not deep. You will be okay. I have also treated your other wounds."

Merlin glanced warily down at his naked and unrecognizable skin on his chest. His features twisted into what Robin mistook for pain.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Merlin didn't answer. He was far too busy staring down at his own flesh. It was not the bruises and fresh cuts that concerned him. He studied the scaring that decorated his upper left chest and vividly remembered the agony of the mace and the terror under Morgana's hold. He noted the old burns and could still feel the heat from Nimueh's magically created blast of fire. His arm held a small line of a scar and Merlin could hear Arthur congratulating him on his first battle wound. There were so many scars. So many memories. He wasn't sure which hurt worse.

He glanced up self-consciously at his saviors.

"Do not worry," Robin smiled sadly. "You don't need to tell us anything you do not wish to share. We all have our scars."

Merlin returned the small smile, a thank you in his eyes. He wordlessly accepted his shirt from the large, wild looking man. Merlin nodded in appreciation. He held no fear for the man. Merlin had seen his fair share of "wild" people. He found that most of them weren't so frightening underneath.

His mind drifted to Freya, his father, even Gwaine when they first met the bar brawler.

Again, he had to push them all away.

"Thank you," he spoke genuinely, addressing everyone in the camp, "all of you. You saved my life."

"And you saved Djaq's," a boy that Merlin guessed was no older than himself spoke up.

"Will's right," Robin grinned. "We thank you as well. What is your name?"

"Merlin," the young traveler answered warily.

"And where are you from, Merlin?" Robin questioned in a far different tone than the bandits had. "I do not recognize you."

"Camelot." Merlin decided to lie as little as possible. "In Albion."

"Then you are far from home," Robin rose his brow.

"It is not my home," Merlin answered in a hushed voice. "Not anymore."

There were obvious questions in Robin's eyes and Merlin was grateful the man kept them silent.

"Well, my new friend, if you are seeking a new home, I suggest you find one away from here." Robin advised soberly.

"Why?" Now it was Merlin who carried questions.

"I am Robin of Locksley, but the people call me Robin Hood. This is Djaq, John, Much, Will and Allan. We are all outlaws because we do not support the sheriff and his cruelty toward our people."

Merlin studied the band of outlaws. They didn't appear dangerous. Apart from their unkempt state, they hardly looked like criminals. Of course, neither did the Druids.

"What about your king?" Merlin pressed.

"King Richard is fighting in the Holy Lands," Robin bowed his head.

Merlin had heard talk of such war. Uther had not been a religious man. He had loathed sorocery, but did not embrace Christianity. Not to mention that he cared little for what happened outside of his own kingdom. He had wanted nothing to do with any of it.

"I am sorry," Merlin spoke earnestly.

Robin stared in awe of the boy. The sincerity behind the simple words struck something within him.

"You have known tyranny?" The look in Merlin's gaze made Robin's question more of a statement.

"Yes," Merlin replied solemnly, "in a different sense. I have seen many men, women and children murdered, only because they are -  _different_. My own father was - banished."

"Is that why you left?" Will spoke again.

Merlin neglected to reply, but his sudden downcast features were answer enough.

"That is enough questions for our new friend," Robin announced after several ticks of tense silence. "You need rest. You are welcome to stay with us."

"What about the bandits? I don't wish to bring you trouble."

"That is not your concern," Robin fixed Merlin with a stern, yet soft, stare. "Your only concern right now is your own safety and recovery."

"Besides," Allan scoffed, "trouble always finds us anyway."

"You don't even know me," Merlin shook his head.

"We have to know you to extend kindness?" Robin questioned. "Rest."

Even with his worries, Merlin could not help but obey. Exhaustion and pain were overtaking him already. He barely managed to mutter another word of thanks before falling back into the blackness.


	4. Assistant, Servant

_But a slave should never grow tired,_

_Whom the masters have kindly hired._

_But oh! for the woods, the flowers_

_Of natural, sweet perfume, The heartening, summer showers_

_And the smiling shrubs in bloom, Dust-free, dew-tinted at morn,_

_The fresh and life-giving air, The billowing waves of corn_

_And the birds' notes rich and clear:—_

_Excerpt from "Joy in the Woods" by Claude McKay_

"How are you feeling?" Djaq asked Merlin again the next time he awoke.

"Better," Merlin nodded, happily noting the lack of the heartbeat in his head. "Thank you. Do you know medicine?"

"Only the little my father taught me," Djaq replied, "for on the battlefield."

"She is being modest," Will smiled crookedly as he kneeled next to the woman. "She saved Marian – one of our friends – after she was stabbed. She's extraordinary."

Will grinned at the pair before Djaq instructed the man to inform Robin that their new guest was once again conscious.

"You are quite skilled," Merlin complimented, rubbing his forehead.

"Does it hurt?"

"A little," Merlin shrugged, having had far worse. "I think I have something in my bag for the pain."

"So  _you_ know medicine?" Djaq raised her brow. "Are  _you_  a physician?"

"Just an assistant to one," Merlin shook his head as he searched through his belongings. "Thank you for retrieving this from the bandits."

"They left it on the ground," Djaq explained. "When we saw books and herbs and things for travelling and medicine, we assumed it could be of use. We did not know it was yours."

Merlin froze as Djaq spoke. His face drained of what little color it had held. He tried to bow his head, shielding his shocked and scared expression from the stranger. His fingers grazed a particular item that was tucked away in his pack.

"You do not need to have fear," Djaq whispered kindly. "I alone saw the book of magic that you keep. I am from a different world than the others. I do not fear witchcraft."

Merlin hesitated several elongated moments before finally bringing himself to look up. His wide eyes searched Djaq's serious gaze.

"You - you're not afraid of me?" Merlin's voice broke off at the end.

"Far from it," Djaq smiled sweetly.

"You don't - hate me?" Merlin couldn't force his brain to take in the information. "You don't want to kill me?"

"These people that you spoke of before, those who were murdered for being different, were they like you?"

"Some of them," the wizard nodded solemnly.

"Where I come from, people are killed because of their beliefs. Because they are different."

Merlin locked gazes with Djaq in sudden understanding, sorrow and gratitude.

"Will you tell the others?" Merlin questioned apprehensively, his eyes flicking around them.

"I will not," Djaq promised. "You have my word."

"Thank you," Merlin sighed in relief. "Again."

The two shared another meaningful look before Merlin returned to his search for a cure for his still sore skull and body.

"May I?" Djaq asked as Merlin pulled out several small cloth sacks.

Nodding, Merlin handed her the medicines.

"Seeds of Scutelloria, for headaches," Merlin explained as she poured the contents of the first bag into her palm. "There's also rose, lavender, sage and bay for head pains. I'd use yarrow or achillea but I don't have any."

"I have only heard of some of these things," Djaq studied the various plants with great care and curiousity, coming across one that she recognized. "What is this?"

"Belladonna," Merlin supplied eagerly.

"I remember this one. We have used this before. You are surely prepared for pain," Djaq noted with a laugh.

"You can use hemlock too," Merlin pointed out after a small smile escaped his lips. "Or henbane. You can mix those two. There are many herbs for pain. That comes in handy."

"What's all this?"

The two glanced up as a curious and almost cross looking Much leaned over them.

"I've already made supper," he said petulantly.

"These are  _medicines_ ," Djaq explained for the shy newcomer. "Merlin is a physician, like my father."

Merlin felt his pale cheeks grow rosy and warm.

"A physician?" Robin was suddenly intrigued and approached them.

"Assistant," Merlin corrected sheepishly, not too fond of the attention.

"He is humble," Djaq persisted. "Already I have learned from him."

"I hate to ask," Robin began, "but we could certainly use someone with your skills in the villages. Many are ill and do not have enough to pay for treatment. There are very few physicians in these lands now and we do not have the proper knowledge or supplies to help all of them."

Merlin let another smile slip before capturing it. He always enjoyed caring for others in any way possible. He could visit the villages, provide care and be on his way without causing any trouble. He was sure of it. Still, there was a voice in the back of his brain reminding him of how that logic never seemed to prove true. Even so, Merlin could never bring himself to abandon those who needed help. With a quick glance at Djaq, Merlin nodded.

"Great," Robin grinned. "We can go into town in the morning."

Suddenly Merlin remembered Much mentioning something about supper.

"Did you say there was food?" The young sorcerer inquired of the servant humbly.

The gang laughed at Merlin and the wizard was worried he had spoken out of turn.

"I'm sorry." Merlin hastily bowed his head.

"No," Allan chuckled. "You just don't know Much. He's always on about food."

"Not that any of you appreciate my hard work around here," Much grumbled.

"It's not -" Merlin paused and fumbled. "It's your food. I wouldn't want to - I just didn't realize how hungry I - how long have I been asleep?"

"It's been two days since we rescued you," Robin informed him soberly.

" _Two days_?" Merlin repeated in shock, running a hand through his raven hair.

"Djaq made sure there wasn't anything wrong with you or your wound," Robin explained. "You were simply exhausted."

Merlin couldn't deny it. He had been walking for days straight, hardly granting himself time for rest. He had to keep moving and he had to get as far away from Camelot as possible. His groaning stomach interrupted his thoughts before they could wander into dangerous land.

"Maybe I'm a little hungry," he smiled impishly as the others snickered at his talking stomach.

Merlin eagerly inhaled the rabbit stew that had been offered to him. The others did not fail to notice how he devoured the meal as if it was his first, and last. When asked if he desired a second helping, Merlin forgot his manners and humility and graciously, if not greedily, accepted another course.

"Easy Merlin," John rumbled. "There are more rabbits in the forest."

"There won't be at the rate he's eating," Allan chuckled.

Merlin immediately dropped his wooden spoon into his stew, nearly fumbling the bowl as well. He glanced nervously around as all eyes were suddenly aimed at him.

"I - I'm sorry. I -"

"It's quite alright," Robin reassured him. "Ignore them." He paused briefly, measuring Merlin's state before carefully asking his next question. "When was the last time you had anything to eat?"

Merlin furrowed his brow. He actually had to think. He had spent much of his travelling simply walking forward, not even entirely noticing the lands of hours that passed. He had stopped on occasion to collect certain plants and herbs as he still wanted to continue learning. Medicine also made him feel connected to his old mentor and surrogate father. It was a connection that caused him comfort instead of pain like so many other memories. He felt as though the old physician was there with him, still guiding him. How he longed for that guidance now more than ever.

"You've got a strong stomach if you can keep that much of Much's rabbit stew down," Allan teased, trying to fill the sudden silence.

"There is nothing wrong with my cooking!" Much protested.

"There's hair," Allan challenged with a chuckle, "rabbit hair. Right there! Look!"

Much begrudgingly leaned over to take the bowl from his friend's hand as he muttered something about ungrateful idiots. The soup sloshed and spilled, scorching Much's hand and staining his tunic.

"Oi!" Much hollered and hissed. "Now look what you've done! A waste!" He looked as though he desired to declare more insults but instead suckled his scalded fingers.

"Here," Merlin grabbed his satchel and began rummaging through it as he moved to Much's side.

Everyone watched as the newcomer easily and swiftly treated not only the servant's wounds, but also his shirt.

"So, you're a physician  _and_ a woman?" Allan snickered.

"Physician's  _assistant_ ," Merlin quietly corrected again. "I was his ward. My job - I was a servant."

His kind eyes fell on Much's surprised ones.

"And I once served my master rat," the young sorcerer winked.

Much smiled at the stranger and nodded his thanks as Merlin finished his work.

"Will you be needing anything for tomorrow when we go into town?" Robin politely changed the subject.

"I won't know for certain until I see them," Merlin sighed. "I have almost everything. There are only a few things I am missing, but I do not know your forests well."

"Take Much with you and gather what you need," Robin instructed, "but do not wander far from the camp."

Merlin was contented to be back collecting herbs. He felt peacefulness wash over him as he picked another plant. There was a shuffle behind him and the young physician's assistant turned, half expecting to find Gaius.

"Sorry," Much bowed his head.

"It's alright," Merlin smiled his lopsided smile as he sidestepped out of the sudden memory. "Ar - my master always told me I was too jumpy."

There was a weighted silence before the older servant spoke.

"Did your master, did he give you those - you know - the scars?"

Merlin stood stiffly and swallowed. The inquiry wasn't meant to be intrusive. Much's voice was laced with only concern and compassion.

"No," the word barely carried over the breeze. "He did not."

His back to Much, Merlin closed his eyes. Thinking of his former friend was far too painful. There was no plant or remedy in his sack for such hurt.

"Forgive me for saying," Much started several wandering minutes later, "but you do not seem the servant type."

"And what is the servant type?" Merlin asked with a curious and crooked smile.

"I don't know," Much kicked the ground. "You're all kinds of smart and -"

"And you are not?" Merlin challenged disbelievingly. "I doubt that. Besides, you're wrong about me." Merlin paused, turning away once more. "I am a fool."

"Surely you don't mean that."

"I've made mistakes." Merlin swallowed slowly. "Mistakes that have cost lives."

"Everyone makes mistakes," Much shrugged.

"But it was my job to keep him safe," Merlin sighed and Much wasn't sure if he was meant to be hearing any of this. "My destiny. And I -" Merlin quickly cleared his throat and said no more.

Much didn't dare pry any further as the fellow servant withdrew into himself. He recognized that look. His own master oftentimes wore the same. He didn't know Merlin like he knew Robin though and therefore did not press the matter.

But he knew someone that could.


	5. In Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you're wondering why/how Robin & Merlin seem to get on so well so suddenly in this chapter, and why they are sharing bits of their pasts/secrets with each other, I honestly don't think it is too OOC. I thought so at first, but then I was watching episodes of both shows again. Both Robin & Merlin tend to reach out to anyone that crosses their path that is in need. They both befriend strangers easily. And they both had hidden past hurts that help them to identify with one another. I think all of this would combine to naturally draw them to each other and form a fast friendship.

When the cold of winter comes,  
Starless night will cover day  
In the veiling of the sun,  
We will walk in bitter rain.

But in dreams,  
I can hear your name.  
And in dreams,  
We will meet again.

When the seas and mountains fall  
And we come to end of days,  
In the dark I hear a call  
Calling me there  
I will go there  
And back again.

 **-** In Dreams

_The screams of metal crashing against metal pierced the air. Cries of rage and agony, death and glory, melded into one monstrous moaning. Blood and dirt and bodies flew and fell in every direction. The chaos was so thick it was difficult to determine friend from foe._

_"Master!"_

_Robin reeled around, blade at the ready, at his servant's warning. A man was charging him from behind. The coward. Robin just barely had enough time to duck, plunging his sword up and into his attacker's abdomen as he rose from the ground. A flash of something caught his eyes and he turned in time to block and then successfully take down another opponent. His blade was coated in the blood of too many Saracen men for the soldier to count. No one came within the length of his sword to him and lived. Others fell prey to his arrows from afar._

_"Robin!"_

_The soldier whipped his head around at the voice. There, battling and butchering right alongside him was Will. The boy's movements were fluid as he cut down every Saracen in his path._

_Will wasn't supposed to be there. He couldn't be there._

_Robin's questioning thoughts were interrupted as a small Saracen warrior fought his way to face them. He was an obviously skilled fighter. They could see that much from the men he took down as the cleared a path of bodies to get closer to the trio. Robin had no time to question Will's presence as the two of them and Much readied themselves for the advancing Saracen soldier._

_Even with three against one, the battle seemed somehow even. Their able bodied assailant sliced and stabbed and parried and pounced. Bending backward to avoid Robin's blade, the stranger sprang so suddenly none of the others saw it coming until it was too late._

_Until the sword was sinking into Robin's stomach._

_Their attacker was now only a breath away from Robin's face and his eyes widened in horror and recognition at the familiar features underneath the hood._

_His gaze caught a flash of movement just above the Saracen's shoulder, but not in time to stop the attack._

_"No!"_

_But his shout came too late. Will plunged his own blade straight into their enemy's back and through his chest._

_No._

_Her chest._

_The two fatally wounded warriors both crumbled to their knees together. The stranger's hood fell backwards, as did her head._

_And Robin watched in anguish as Djaq collapsed backward onto the ground._

_She was dead seconds before Robin himself felt his last breath leaving him._

Robin sat up with a start, caging a scream that was ripping away at the back of his mind and throat. Blinking and wiping a hand over his sweating face, he slowly regained his grip on reality. Out of sheer habit, and as a way of finding purchase and some sense of normalcy after the nightmare, the outlaw leader performed a quick check of his camp and comrades. His tired eyes fell on an empty blanket and he instinctively reached for his bow. With another scan of his surroundings, Robin spotted his new friend. Dropping his weapon, Robin quietly got up and made his way to the edge of their hidden dwellings.

The young physician's assistant didn't so much as blink when Robin sat down next to him. The older man studied Merlin carefully. From the little he had seen of the boy, he was rather easily spooked and almost always on edge. He had expected some kind of surprised reaction to Robin's sudden presence. Instead, Robin was uncertain if Merlin had even noticed him at all. The boy's eyes were distant and the outlaw knew they were seeing things far beyond Sherwood Forest. The two sat in somber silence for some time. Robin wasn't going to press their new friend and he needed the fresh air and peace to dispel the dreadful dream.

"It's not easy," Robin finally sighed slowly, casually staring up at the starless sky before knowingly looking down on the boy,"when you cannot even find rest in sleep."

Merlin's lashes fluttered briefly and Robin was certain the boy was replaying a vision of sorts over in his mind.

"I try so hard - not to think of it," Merlin's voice was cracked, breaking with carefully controlled emotions. "I can't do anything when it's in my dreams."

"Even the best of us are haunted by our pasts," Robin's words were kind, yet laced with a certain darkness.

"What do you dream of?" Merlin sounded genuinely compassionate and concerned, as if his own troubles were instantly forgotten.

Still, Robin could see a spark there. Surprise, curiosity - and maybe even a little hope. He knew Merlin needed to know that he was not alone. It wasn't an intrusive question when it came from Merlin. From what he had seen of the boy, Merlin would never act in such a way. And because of all these things, Robin knew he could tell him.

"I fought in the Holy Lands," Robin began, noticing for the first time that Merlin was finally looking at him. "I fought in the war under King Richard. I killed men I don't even remember. I saw things, did things that I am unable to describe. I changed, though. I now only want peace. Peace in the Holy Lands. Peace in Nottingham. I do not want war and yet I fear that I bring upon war by my actions here. People have died, willingly and unwillingly in my name. I've turned a servant and a son into killers."

"Much and Will are good men," Merlin whispered, knowing who Robin spoke of.

"That is what I dream of," Robin continued. "I see the battles, the men I killed. I see my people here, sick and starving or being put to death. I see my friends and the fate I fear I have brought upon them. And sometimes, I see all of it as one."

A silence settled over them as the weight of the words sunk in.

"You sound like my master," Merlin finally spoke, but only barely. "He wanted nothing more than peace. He put every death upon his own shoulders, whether it was his fault or not. He led men into battle and saved lives, saved entire villages, but it was never enough to cure his guilt."

"He sounds like a good man," Robin nodded.

"He wa - is," Merlin corrected himself and cleared his throat. "So are you."

"Thank you, Merlin," Robin smiled softly. "You are a good man too."

"I am not so sure," Merlin had hoped Robin didn't hear his mumbled response.

"Merlin, you saved Djaq. You have offered your skills to help our people. In my eyes, you are my friend now. I hope one day maybe you can consider me in the same light."

"I do consider you my friend," Merlin turned to him with reassuring eyes, though a flicker of something else - fear maybe - played at the corner of his irises.

"Then, as your friend, you can confide in me, Merlin. Know that."

Their eyes locked then, Robin's sincere and sympathetic, Merlin's sorrowful and scared.

"Tell me what troubles you," Robin urged gently.

"I've killed, too," The young man choked on the words as he forced them out. "I hurt someone. Someone I was supposed to protect. I've lost everyone. I can never go back."

The answer was vague and disjointed, but Robin knew how difficult revealing even this fragment of the past was for Merlin. The silence settled in over them once more as there truly wasn't much that could be said.

"Do you miss your home? Do you miss Camelot?"

"Camelot was never my home. No matter how hard I tried -" Merlin's words were cut off as he ran his sleeve over his mouth, refusing to shed tears in front of his new friend. "Besides, Camelot, it wasn't - it's not my true home. I was raised in Ealdor by my mother."

Thoughts of his mother sent shockwaves of raw emotions through his very soul. He knew, like everything else he had to leave behind, he would never see her again.

"I can never go back," Merlin lamented longingly, "to either home."

"Then we have another thing in common," Robin sighed. "We are both barred from the places and the people we love."

"Where is your home?"

"Locksley," Robin let the word rest on his tongue.

"Do you think you'll ever be able to return?" Merlin questioned. "For good?"

"I do," Robin spoke the words with so much conviction and confidence that as he stared at Merlin, the young wizard almost believed it to be true, for both of them.

"Come on now," Robin stood, setting a strong hand on Merlin's shivering shoulder - which the outlaw guessed was from far more than the cold. "Tomorrow will be a long day. We both need to get some rest."

Merlin paused before slowly rising to his feet, his face still turned down.

"Like you said," he whispered, "can't find rest in sleep."

The two returned together in shared silence to the camp. Robin watched the young man as he laid down, promptly rolling over onto his side so that his back faced the others. Robin continued to keep vigil over the troubled traveler for quite some time. The boy had one of the most gentle souls and kind hearts Robin had ever seen. He had this selfless spirit that only made it all the more sad to see him in such a state. He barely knew the physician's assistant, but these qualities radiated off of him in such a way that even a blind man could see them. He reminded Hood of Will. Though Will had hardened, especially since the death of his father. He couldn't envision Merlin ever suggesting killing someone to keep them quiet as Will had. Of course, Robin couldn't imagine a violent bone in Merlin's body. He even hadn't shown much enthusiasm or support when they had told him of their endeavors of robbing the rich to give to the poor. He commended them but had admitted he could never steal from someone or threaten anyone in such a way. Still, he wished to help their cause however he could. He was genuinely excited to be going into the villages to treat the ill and wounded.

As Robin continued to stare at the young man - who was most likely feigning sleep if the all too controlled movement of his shoulders and breathing was any indication - he found himself growing fond of him. He was already openly considering him a friend and part of Robin secretly hoped that Merlin would truly one day be able to honestly view Robin in kind and be able to let the man help carry some of that burden. Robin was quite keenly acquainted with harboring secrets of past pains and bearing that baggage. He also knew that, even though Merlin had spoken briefly to him that night, the boy had not even begun to shed the weight that he carried.


	6. A Fine Young Man

The sun had hardly greeted the day when the outlaws were stirred from their sleep. This time, though, it was not from an attack or some other form of trouble that so often found them. A fine and tempting aroma swept through the camp, tickling nostrils and taunting taste buds.

Much was the first one up.

"Oi!" He hollered. "What you think you're doing?"

The young apprentice who had been presently humming a tune while leaning over the fire ceased his musical musings and stared up at the servant with surprise.

"Making breakfast," Merlin informed him cheerfully.

"But  _I_ make breakfast," Much quickly stomped his way over to the scene of crime - or cooking.

"Thought you might like a morning off," Merlin shrugged with a smile. "It's been a long time since I've had to serve anyone and everyone needs time off."

Much wasn't sure if he was offended or touched.

"The cook always eats last," Merlin continued, "meaning he gets the scraps, if there's time left to eat after the dishes are done and before the next problem comes up."

"I hear that," Much nodded and crossed his arms, looking sternly at his fellow waking companions.

"Well, today, you my friend, eat first."

Much nearly dropped the bowl as Merlin handed it to him. For a long moment the servant simply starred at it in almost awe. The rest of the gang was already served up before the baffled man finally sat and took his first sampling. His eyes grew even larger as he took in the taste.

"This is amazing," Much gasped, gulping down another spoonful. "Absolutely incredible."

"He is right," Djaq spoke between mouthfuls.

"You should stick 'round," Allan added. "You cook way better than him."

"Hey!"

"This tastes like what my mom used to make me 'n Luke for breakfast on special occasions," Will began. "She always went to market and got special, expensive spices and things."

"Oh, they're not that expensive," Merlin smiled softly. "The forest is my market. The people I cooked for had - er - high standards - when it came to food. Just wait until you see what I can do with fish."

"I look forward to it," John bellowed through bites.

Merlin surveyed his new friends happily. It was truly a nice feeling to be appreciated and to have his cooking praised - instead of thrown at the back of his head. His wandering eyes fell on Robin and they shared a serious stare before Merlin returned to his work.

Robin watched the boy with fascination, and a little fear. The newcomer was certainly full of surprises, that was certain. But he also wondered about these other surprises, these secrets, he held. Robin idly wondered if the boy had slept at all. He looked markedly better than he had in the night, but then again, Merlin had been a servant. He was liked quite skilled at putting on a smile.

"Are you ready for the day?" Robin addressed the young man, who was now sharing stories and laughter with John and Will.

"I have everything I need," Merlin nodded and patted his sack.

Robin didn't miss the curious, and somehow knowing, look that Djaq sent Merlin's way.

"Good," Robin stood, wiping his hands against his shirt. "Then we should we going."

Robin and Merlin were to go into the nearest village, while others separated and made their drops for the day in the other towns.

Merlin couldn't help but hold a twinge of fear at the idea of putting himself around so many people. But he wouldn't abandon those in need.

And it was only one little village, for one day. He was sure he could keep out of harm just this once.

Merlin battled between a smile and frown as he entered the first village alongside Robin the following morning. The humble town reminded him both fondly and darkly on Ealdor. He was openly surprised when a handful of villagers began to approach them, some shaking Robin's hand, others offering words of gratitude. There were, though, a fair few who notably kept their distance, almost glaring in their direction. Merlin attempted to ignore them as a weathered elderly man hobbled towards them, clasping Robin's hand in his.

"Robin," the bent over peasant greeted him.

"Henrik," Robin smiled and shook his hand eagerly. "It is good to see you."

"As good as it is to also see you, Robin. But you shouldn't be here. You were nearly caught in our village last week. It's dangerous."

"I'll take my chances," Robin reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder and then nodding at his companion. "This is Merlin. He knows medicine. He's come to help. Who in the town is ill or injured?"

Henrik examined the young medicine man warily, if not suspiciously. His lips parted, but no words came out.

"What is it?" Robin pressed.

"Are you sure he knows what he is doing?" Henrik speculated skeptically. "He is far too young."

"Do you trust me, Henrik?" Robin asked, to which the old man nodded. "Well, _I_  trust  _him_. So you can too."

Henrik hesitated briefly, once more glancing at the stranger.

"Anya," he finally whispered.

"Your granddaughter?" Robin's eyes alit with concern.

"She fell feverish and now she will not wake."

"When did the fever start?" Merlin questioned, his coyness forgotten as a child's life lay in the balance.

"Three days ago," Henrik lamented. "We can't afford a physician."

"You can afford me," Merlin answered with an assuring smile.

"All he costs is granted access to your granddaughter," Robin informed the man with a grin.

Henrik hesitated and then finally nodded and lead the men to his humble home. Merlin smiled sadly, if not a bit sheepishly, at the middle aged couple who were both keeping vigil over their ailing daughter. Henrik and Robin explained to the parents the newcomer's presence while Merlin carefully examined his young patient. The child winced at his touch and the father made a move to stand against him.

"It's alright," Robin spoke in that kind, yet commanding tone of his, causing the father to settle.

"I've seen this before," Merlin reported as he prepared a potion.

"Is it treatable?" The mother breathed hopefully. "Can you cure her?"

"Oh yes," Merlin's lips twitched upwards. "The fever will be gone by sundown and she'll be awake before it rises in the morning."

The family was speechless as they stared in shock at the stranger, each other, and then their daughter.

"Thank you," the mother sobbed as one hand stroked her daughter's hair and the other squeezed Merlin's arm.

The physician's face spread into a smile at the outpour of emotions and gratitude. He gathered his supplies and wordlessly walked out the door behind Robin.

"God bless you, Robin," Henrik declared fervently as he followed the two outside. "And you - er - what was it, son?"

"Merlin," the medicine man mumbled shyly.

"Well, God bless you, Merlin. You are a fine young man. Just like Robin here." Henrik turned to the outlaw with a chuckle. "You hang onto this one."

"I'll do my best," Robin laughed.

They exchanged farewells and the two young men made their way back through the heart of the village.

They neglected to notice the black haired man watching them leave, something sinister sparking in his stare.


	7. One of the Gang

"Oh, I missed this," Merlin said with a smile as he and Robin began their walk back to camp.

They had visited nearly every home in the village during the course of the long day. Merlin had seen fevers, sweats, head pains, a child with night terrors, some unattractive gout, a burn, bruised rib and a broken hand. Many of the ailments required simple solutions that Djaq could have easily recognized and provided. He could be glad that there was no one in desperate enough need for any advanced medicine, he supposed.

Robin offered him a questioning glance.

"Back ho - back in Camelot, I helped a lot of people. Well, helped, help them, being only the physician's assistant 'n all."

"I'm sure you did much more than that," Robin assured him.

Merlin remained momentarily silent as he thought of all the lives he had secretly saved.

"If I was runnin' an errand, picking herbs or helping save a wounded knight, it didn't matter," Merlin finally continued to explain. "Whatever I was doing, no matter how small - or big - I was helping people. I didn't know I'd been missing it until today."

"Well, my friend, there are plenty of other towns and people who could use your help," Robin replied kindly. "Including us."

"You?" Merlin stopped short in surprise. "Who's sick?"

"No one," Robin chuckled at the boy's eager kindness and genuine concern. "But we do seem to find quite a bit of trouble, or rather, it finds us. We could use someone of your talents."

"Djaq knows -"

"I know what Djaq knows," Robin shook his head. "You are a good man with a good heart. I would be honored to have you as part of my gang, talents or no talents."

Merlin stood in stunned silence for a few stretched seconds. Could he really risk staying in one spot for too long? Could he possibly put his new friends in danger? But could he also knowingly abandon these sick and hurting people? Hood's gang were outlaws. Staying wouldn't require anything formal. They lived in the forest, but wasn't putting down roots. He could leave anytime he needed.

Not to mention the fact that Merlin was terribly tired of traveling. He loved it; seeing new places and everything it entailed, but it grew lonely alone.

Besides, no one knew him here. Merlin imagined he could do with a fresh start. Even if for only a short while.

"I have to warn you," Merlin spoke solemnly, but then smiled. "I'm a terrible fighter."

"And I'm a terrible cook," Robin teased.

"What about Much?"

"Oh, he's always complaining about how he does all the work. He won't mind."

* * *

"No, no, no. No way." Much paced back and forth in front of his master. "He can't stay."

"Much -"

"If he stays, you'll certainly have no use for me anymore. Then where will I be? In the forest on my own?"

As much as the servant had grown to truly like Merlin and was concerned for the young man, his own insecurities and selfishness did sometimes tend to overrule the more sensible side of his brain.

"You really think I just keep you around here because you're my servant?" Robin asked incredulously.

"You're always groanin' 'bout wanting time off," Allan cut in.

"Much, you're here because you're my  _friend._ " Robin assured him kindly. _"_ Merlin's our friend now too."

"Who's gonna provide food for another mouth to feed? We  _barely_ have enough for ourselves as it is."

"I'm good at catching fish," Merlin timidly piped in.

"Oh,  _great_. So he can cook  _and_ hunt," Much exclaimed as he threw his recently crossed arms into the air.

"I can fish," Merlin corrected cautiously. "Not hunt. I don't do weapons very well."

"How can you do  _do_ weapons, and be in this gang?" Allan asked skeptically.

"This  _is_ dangerous," Will agreed.

Merlin partially wanted to laugh. He had fought creatures these outlaws couldn't dream of. He just didn't fancy flailing around a sword or robbing anyone, no matter who they were.

"Then we teach him," Robin argued. "I seem to remember a story of a young boy who shot an arrow into his own foot," he stared poignantly at Much. "We need all the help we can get. I've already asked Merlin and he has said yes. That's the end of it."

"No, it's not."

Robin turned at the whispered words. He stared at Merlin curiously before the young man continued.

"I'm leaving."

"What?" Robin stepped forward.

"You are friends. A family. I don't wish to come between that," he paused and purposefully averted his gaze. "I've destroyed enough families. You have each other. I've been on my own alone for a long time now."

"Merlin," Robin implored, "you do not have to go. Much, apologize."

Much brought his hands away from his hips and shuffled over to the young physician with a bowed head.

"I'm sorry. I didn't really mean -"

"I understand," Merlin interrupted. "I know what it's like to have your position threatened by someone else. I won't ever try and replace you. But maybe I can help carry the burden. One former servant to another."

Much nodded with a small smile, patting Merlin's shoulder as Merlin did the same to him.

"I was just makin' fun," Allan rose his hands in defense. "Didn't mean nothin' by it."

"I was only worried," Will explained, "about your safety."

"You know where I stand," Djaq announced with a grin spread toward Merlin.

"John?" Robin turned to his large friend.

"Him," John nodded, "I like."

The rest of the gang shared a laugh and soon all were welcoming their new friend, telling tales of past adventures and future plans. They all snickered and chuckled as Merlin struggled to perfect their secret calling code. Apparently, along with weapons, whistling also wasn't one of his strong points. While Robin gladly enjoyed the banter and seeing his friends enjoying themselves for a happy change, he couldn't help but cast concerned glances at their newest recruit. There was so much that they didn't yet know about him, so much pain about him. He had been profoundly hurt, and apparently had hurt others. He carried secrets and this heavy burden Robin could see in the boy's eyes. Even while brimming with mirth, there was always something else there, something about Merlin he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Yet, for some unknown reason, he trusted Merlin. It was such a strong trust from such a short time that even Robin couldn't explain it to himself.

"Alright you lot," Robin chuckled, "leave him alone. Time we all got some rest. We've got four more drops tomorrow and I want to take Merlin to Locksley. Gisbourne has business in the castle all day. Still, we'll have to be careful, and only have a couple of us. Djaq and Will take the first two drops. John and Allan, the last two. I'll take Much 'n Merlin to Locksley. Rest up gang. Tomorrow's a long day."

"When are we ever going to have a  _short_ day?" Much grumbled as they all got into their respective makeshift beds. "Or a medium day, I'd settle for that."

"Much!" All but Merlin shouted, to which Much mumbled something and fell begrudgingly silent.

It wasn't long before each member drifted to sleep. All, that is, except their leader. He remained awake and alert, his mind far too loud to allow rest.

Robin still wasn't sleeping hours later when a sudden movement caught his watchful eye. He sat up with both haste and stealth and waited until it happened again. And then again. He tensed, knowing what was to come next.

As Merlin's body twitched and thrashed, his lips began to part in inaudible mumbling. His dripping brow wrinkled as his fists clenched.

Robin waited for the scream he was sure would soon shake the silence. But it never came. Merlin suffered the rest of the night writhing, as if in indescribable agony. Robin suffered the rest of the night helplessly watching, he too feeling a different kind of pain.


	8. Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Some first time appearances for some other characters!

It was still in the early morning hours of the day when the trio crested the small hill and paused, staring down at the familiar town.

"So," Robin waved his hand in the air, "welcome to my home."

"It must be hard," Merlin lamented longingly, "to be so close and yet -" he trailed off and no one needed for him to finish.

"We should get started," Robin sighed.

Merlin said no more as he followed Robin down the grassy slope and into the village. Once again, the outlaw was met with open and gracious arms. They kept an even lower profile here as to not alert any of Gisbourne's followers. Merlin had grown accustom keeping his head down and becoming invisible while in Camelot. It was practically second nature now. Merlin was prepared for another routine day of fevers and minor injuries when they stepped into the first house.

"Oh, Robin!" A frazzled and fiery haired peasant dropped her bowl mid-stir as the three made their entrance.

The woman hardly noticed the mess now decorating her floor. Her wide and frantic eyes were fixed upon the outlaw. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward Robin, sloshing carelessly through the puddle of ingredients at her feet.

"Robin, thank the heavens you are here."

"Miranda?" Robin took the woman's trembling hands in his own. "What is it? What's happened?"

"It's my sister, Susanna." Miranda was nearly sobbing through her speech.

"She's not sick again?" Much asked anxiously.

"No," Miranda's shaking head looked as though it may never stop. "She was well. She was coping without her sight. She was - she was happy."

"Miranda," Robin urged, "tell me what happened."

"She wanted to go for a walk, alone. We told her not to. We told her it wasn't safe. She wouldn't hear of it. So stubborn. So determined to not need help all the rest of her life because of her illness. She went the wrong direction and ended up in the woods. She didn't - she didn't see -"

"Didn't see what?" Robin prompted her when tears threaten to overtake her.

"The cliff."

The words broke free of Miranda's mouth and entire house fell silent save for the woman's weeping.

"Where is she?" Robin swallowed and spoke with both concern and control.

Miranda hastily led the trio to another home that stood next to hers. An elderly woman with that same flaming hair welcomed them somberly. The three were brought to the back room where the entire family slept.

The auburn young woman who laid before them on the bed neglected to stir as the visitors entered.

"Robin Hood."

Her voice was small and fragile, but there existed this deep strength underneath the frail exterior.

"I could hear your voice from outside the door," she explained. "Two more have come with you, one who is not from here."

"How do you know that?" Merlin questioned quietly.

"You smell funny," she said with a sly smile. "All my other senses seemed to take over when the sickness took my sight. I wonder how they will make up for the loss of my legs."

At that, Merlin glanced down at her body, veiled by a thin blanket.

"May I?" Merlin asked timidly.

Susanna nodded and Merlin gingerly began peeling back the cloth. Most of the women's ivory skin was shrouded in once white fabric. The bandaging had all now been dyed crimson. Her arm was wrapped and placed in a poorly fashioned sling while both of her legs were beyond slings or dressings.

Merlin struggled to hold his composure as he studied the girl's broken body.

"Is there anything you can do?" The sister asked desperately.

Merlin glanced at Robin and then down at his patient. He could apply proper bandaging and pastes for the minor wounds. He could give her potions for the pain. But Merlin knew there was no medicine that could make Susanna walk again.

None, except -

_No._

Merlin swore to himself he would never use magic again, especially this kind of magic. Nothing good would come of it. It couldn't.

And so he did what he could with hands of medicine, not magic, and quietly shared his condolences with the family for his inability -  _no, not inability, indecision, Merlin battled with himself_  - to do anymore.

"You did everything you could and they are very grateful. You cannot blame yourself," Robin whispered to the young apprentice as Merlin bowed his head once outside the hut.

"I still do," Merlin sighed.

As the trio marched solemnly to the next house, the black haired rider watched from a hidden distance. With a scowl, he turned his steed around and headed for the castle.

* * *

"So, what news?"

The man's back was cast toward the door as it opened. He didn't need to be facing the other direction to know those familiar and pathetic footsteps approaching.

The rider rolled his eyes at the man's back at the lack of any other form of greeting.

"It worked," he informed him dutifully, if not a bit smugly. "Hood heard the word that I would be at the castle for the length of the day and visited Locksley. He was with his servant and that stranger I saw yesterday."

"Mm. Yes. This  _stranger._ Young boy. Black hair. Gangling little thing, you said. Blah, blah, blah. Boring, Gisbourne. For that information, you should have just waited outside Locksley and killed Hood while he wasn't expecting it. If it was only his servant and this  _boy_ with him, I think that even  _you_ could've achieved  _that_."

"We never know who is in hiding," Guy shook his head. "Hood is full of surprises."

"Well, yes, and so are we," the sheriff smirked, glancing at the cloaked figure in the corner of the room.

"This stranger, he has been going with Robin, to each home, providing care for the sick and healing for the wounded. He must be some sort of physician or healer."

"Brilliant conclusion, Gisbourne," the sheriff scoffed.

"With someone of such skill in their ranks, Hood and his followers will be more likely to take more risks. If they can count on receiving care for their injuries. He is also taking profits away, providing the people with his care for no charge. It will only spread more support for Hood. I've watched him. The boy is good with medicine, but I can't see him handling anything other than herbs or potions. He wouldn't last in a fight. We could take him out. Make an example of him."

"Oh, Gisbourne," the sheriff sighed shamefully, "you're so shortsighted. You don't see the  _bigger picture_. I don't want to make an example of some runt. I don't want to take out just _one_ of Hood's pathetic little  _gang_. I want them  _all_."

"We've tried that," Gisbourne argued, "and we always fail."

"No!" The sheriff swooped around to finally face the man. " _You_ always fail. You. Fail. Me.  _I_ needed  _you_ to rid me of that little band of cockroaches. Eliminating Hood, means pleasing Prince John. Pleasing Prince John, pleases our future king. Not pleasing him, has the two of us swinging by our necks! You can't just go for one head, you have to cut them all. Make it so no one in Nottingham, no one in  _England_ , would ever  _dare_ speak the name  _Robin Hood_  again!"

"And what to do you  _suggest_ , my lord?" Gisbourne bit back his anger.

"Well, it just so happens that we have a new ally with us," the sheriff nodded to the figure in the shadows and Guy blinked, having not noticed the third party present in the room until just then. "This new ally, too wishes to please the prince. To bring down Hood and King Richard. You know what they say, Gisbourne, 'you can't teach an old dog new tricks'," he looked poignantly at Guy, "but you can always, get a new dog. Uh, no offense, my lady. Of course."

The hooded woman lifted her head at his words, a thin smile curving against her ivory features. A delicate, and yet dangerous beauty emerged from the dark.

"Of course."


	9. What Defines Us

Merlin found that in the forest, time passed somehow differently.

It wasn't so structured as his life in the castle, his schedule revolving around Arthur's and Gaius' and royal events. He wasn't constantly pressed for time, running here, doing that. There wasn't a new threat to Arthur popping up every day or someone in need of saving that he had to go sneak off to rescue. There was no armor in need of polishing or beds to made. The only meals he delivered were the ones he made with his own two hands when he wanted to, with herbs and animals he had gathered himself. There were days when trips to the towns were planned, or some new scheme Robin had concocted.

It also wasn't as liquid as it had been when he had been wandering alone. Then, entire days would pass by unnoticed by the traveler. His only goal was to keep moving. He ate and slept when he couldn't bear not to anymore, but that was almost all he did. He had no reason to keep time.

It wasn't long before Merlin found himself enjoying this new lifestyle and becoming surprisingly comfortable in it. He had grown up sleeping on a hard floor and had endured countless nights without a bed on quests with Arthur and the knights. He had never been privileged in food or shelter or leisure and therefore had little physical comforts to miss. He found talking and jesting with the gang as easy as it had been to do with the knights. Except for here, he wasn't constantly at the end of every joke.

Djaq and Merlin traded knowledge of medicine, and alchemy in secret, while the servants swapped recipes and stories. Merlin was quite keen to learn carpentry and locksmithing from Will. They also shared more serious conversations, as Merlin understood far too well the pains of losing a parent. Little John tended to act, knowingly or unknowingly, as an almost father figure to the newcomer, as he also did to Will. Merlin didn't mind. In fact, he embraced the surrogate after losing both his biological father and having to leave his mentor behind. Allan taught Merlin a multitude of gambling and card games and even tried to turn him into an accomplished pickpocket. Despite his protesting, Robin implored the younger man that he be instructed on how to properly fight. He accepted that the physician's assistant wished to not partake in some of their more illegal doings, but desired to boy to be ready in case the battle ever came to them.

Merlin had a hard time not flashing back to training with Arthur and the knights when the gang began his instructions. Sword fighting, though, was only part of his teachings.

Merlin had never had much luck with archery before and he wasn't exactly keen on embarrassing himself in front of his new friends as he had so often done in front of the knights. Robin lead the instruction, showing the pacifist the proper stance and techniques.

"Stand up a bit straighter," Robin called out.

"His feet are too close," Will pointed out.

"Spread your feet," Robin repeated to Merlin.

"Relax," John chuckled at the shaking young man.

"Are you sure about this?" Allan quirked an eyebrow at their leader as Merlin took a unsteady aim at the handmade target.

"Allan," Robin warned.

"I was actually just thinking the same thing," Merlin swallowed.

"Stop talking," Robin ordered, "focus."

Merlin took in what was intended to be a calming breath and finally released the arrow. It landed without much grace in the ground at the foot of the target.

"It's alright," Robin nodded. "Don't forget, you have to draw your hand back after letting go," Robin mimicked the motion. "You just gave up. You knew you flinched when you released the arrow and gave up. You can't. Pull your hand back, keep your other hand steady, and watch the arrow. I don't care if it's going into the dirt or the sky. Watch it until it lands. It's practice. You always want to watch your arrow until it hits your target. It improves your aim and just might save your life. If you think you hit someone when you didn't and turn around, you could get shot yourself."

"No offense," Merlin sighed, "but I'm hoping I don't have to shoot anyone."

"That's good," Robin smiled softly. "But sometimes you don't have it choice. Sometimes it isn't about stealing or even about your own safety. Sometimes it's about the safety of others."

Merlin only nodded, understanding the lesson far too well.

After archery, Djaq and John took turns showing him different hand to hand combat techniques. He fared even worse than his poor attempts with a bow and arrow. They were slow and exclaimed each move step by step, though. They didn't even try having him spar for several days.

Will taught him the basics of other forms of weaponry, how to make some, teaching him how to properly handle his axes in a fight, and how to improvise with materials found in the forest.

"Anything can be a weapon," Will shrugged, nodding at Little John's stick. "It doesn't have to be a sword or bow or ax or blade or anything like that. A stick. A stone."

Merlin's mind had wandered here to days of magically using falling tree branches to his advantage. He shook the memories off as quickly as they came.

When it came to sword fighting, Allan, Much and Robin were his teachers. They explained to him first the different styles of swords and other basic lessons that Merlin was secretly well beyond. The outlaw's swords were much different and lighter than those of the knights and Merlin actually found himself performing above par when it wasn't a child trained from birth battling him.

"Whoa," Allan laughed with wide eyes as he dodged a jab from his pupil. "Where did this come from? Have you been holding out on us, Merlin?"

"Allan's right," Robin agreed. "Have you much experience with a sword?"

"Some," Merlin answered soberly, his mind threatening to thrust him back into his past life.

Of swords and stones. Of dragon's breath and wraiths.

Of death.

"I think that will do for today," Robin spoke softly, but with a smile. "Much, Merlin has had a long day. Why don't you prepare supper tonight?"

Much had seen the dark cloud cross over Merlin's features and didn't object. The gang disbanded, each offering their words of encouragement to the young pupil. Merlin accepted the compliments kindly, but all could see behind his smile.

"Merlin," Robin started when the two were finally left alone, "is there something upsetting you? Do you wish to talk about it?"

"It's nothing that talking will help," Merlin whispered as he began to walk away.

"I've told you this before, Merlin," Robin pressed, "we are your friends. Your family. The secrets you keep are your own and as long as they do not endanger the lives of the others, I will not force you to share them. But I will ask you to."

"Do they know everything you did in the Holy Land?" Merlin suddenly spun around and snapped at the man, shocking Robin into silence. "Do you tell them  _your_ secrets?"

"Much knows everything," Robin revealed slowly.

"He was there," Merlin shook his head. "It's different."

"He was there," Robin nodded. "And because he was, I can talk to him about it. And he can do the same to me. But not having someone that was with you in your troubles in much more difficult. You do not have to carry this burden alone."

When Merlin didn't reply or move for some time, Robin desperately continued.

"No, you're right," he admitted. "I haven't told the others everything about what happened, about what I did, in the Holy Land. If they ask, I will speak openly and honestly. But I do have  _someone_ who knows. And just having one person helps."

Merlin kept his gaze drawn away from the outlaw for a lingering moment before the younger man finally bowed his head and slipped away, in the opposite direction from their camp. Robin didn't follow. He hoped Merlin merely needed time and that someday, he would feel he could confide in his friends. Robin knew peoples' pasts were not always pretty. There were things said and done. Regrets. Choices made. Lives lost, or taken. But that didn't have to define who someone was now.

Merlin would have to discuss the terrors of his past, and define them, before they defined him.


	10. Choosing Sides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Merlin might be a bit OOC in this chapter compared to how he has been throughout this story, but he isn't OOC for the show, I believe. We see varying sides of Merlin. He isn't just the shy, quietly suffering, humble servant. He is also the strong sorcerer. The protective friend. A little of that old Merlin shows up in this chapter.

"That's the fourth time this week!" Will's exclaimed as he tossed his ax into the dirt.

Merlin glanced up at his new friends' return to camp after another apparently unsuccessful robbery.

"They're using decoys," he continued as he slid down to sit next to his weapon.

"Robin, I don't like this," John added with a huff. "Something doesn't feel right."

"How do they  _always_ know?" Much threw his hands in the air.

"I don't know," Robin sighed tiredly.

"It is like they know every move we are going to make," Djaq shook her head.

"Maybe it's just bad luck," Allan shrugged and Merlin drew his attention to the man.

"And maybe it's more than that," Robin countered.

"Robin," John stepped forward, "we're running low. If we don't get more soon, we won't have enough to make our drops into town next week."

"I know," Robin nodded solemnly. "I'm taking Merlin into Locksley today. Joshua sent word last night that Anès took a fever. We'll discuss it tomorrow."

At this, the physician's assistant wordlessly abandon his practice with a bow and followed the outlaw from the camp, his eyes falling back on Allan as they went.

* * *

The better part of the day had passed by the time the duo returned to camp. Whenever Merlin went to a village, he never solely saw one patient. Word would spread of his visit and others would come flocking forward. They would have to hide or flee on occasion from the sheriff's men or the actual appointed physician, and the days were long and tiring, but it was well worth it.

He had tried to push the nagging sensation that had gripped him out of his mind, and yet it had refused to listen. Upon returning into the forest, the feeling only magnified.

Merlin watched Allan duel with Will from a distance until the duo parted and the cause for Merlin's concern was left alone.

"You are a good swordsman," Merlin complimented casually as he approached the man.

"Against him?" Allan chuckled. "Will's not much of a challenge. Only joking, of course."

"Of course," Merlin forced a smile.

"What? Do you want to go?" Allan laughed. "Been practicing?"

"No," Merlin laughed. "I've been practicing, but I still think I'll stick to plants."

"Suit yourself," Allan shrugged, "but you don't know what you're missing."

"Yes I do," Merlin replied seriously, causing Allan to pause. "Fighting and killing and death. Watching people you care about die."

"But we're fighting  _for_ something," Allan continued after a moment. "That's different."

"Everyone is fighting for something," Merlin sighed. "Everyone thinks they're right. Doesn't matter if you were right or wrong when you're dead."

"You sound like Robin," Allan mused.

"People choose what they fight for, right?" Merlin disregarded the comment. "Or who?" He added after a beat.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"They pick sides." Merlin straightened himself. "Because, if you're fighting for something, you can't be on both sides, right? If you care about what you're fighting for, you can't be in the middle. You can try, but eventually, you have to choose."

Allan neglected to respond and Merlin knew his suspicions were slowly being confirmed. He didn't know if it was his magic warning him, or his past experiences pulling at his gut. Somehow, that morning, he had just known.

"What are you getting at?" Allan questioned, a touch too defensively.

"Nothing," Merlin shook his head. "I just know from what I've seen that you're a good man. But a good man with secrets, and a serious problem."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Merlin," Allan shook his head. "Too much time in the sun picking plants."

"I'm trying to offer you a chance to tell the truth," Merlin pressed. "To come clean."

"Come clean? About what? And who are you to talk about secrets? We hardly know anything about you!" Allan was barely controlling the volume of his voice now.

"You want me to tell you something about me? About my life?" Merlin stepped forward. "I watched people,  _good_ people, do bad things. Terrible things. Confused and hurting and thinking that they were all alone. Some of them thought they were doing good. I've seen traitors and spies and I know when people are lying. Because I've seen them. Because  _I've_ had to live a life. I had to lie and hide, because if I didn't, people would get hurt. I couldn't tell anyone what I really was. I had to look my best friends in the eyes and tell them lie after lie to protect myself and them. I hated  _every_ second of it, but  _I_ didn't have a choice.  _You_ do. What are you lying to your friends for? To protect them? How is money in your pocket helping them, or anyone besides you? I'm assuming that's what you're getting from whatever deal you've made."

"This is ridiculous," Allan scoffed. "Crazy! You're trying to pin your problems on me, is what this is!"

"I'm trying to  _help_ you!" Merlin shouted back. "To help them, your friends. The people who you are going to get hurt or killed if you don't stop."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Allan repeated.

"I won't tell Robin," Merlin swallowed. "Not yet. Because I still think are good people left in the world. And I really think you can be one of them. But if you don't, soon, I will."

"What's going on?"

The pair turned to face a confused and concerned Will.

"Nothing," Allan spoke quickly.

Merlin merely nodded as the other man hurried marched away.


	11. Heroes and Villians

The band of outlaws walked together along the forest roads as they ventured home after a day in the villages. Not long before they had been chased out of a town by the sheriff's men, but now the group laughed and talked carelessly.

"Sheriff and Gisbourne haven't shown their faces much outside of the castle," Will noted as they continued forward. "Do you think they're up to something?"

"They're  _always_ up to something," Robin smirked. "And we always stop them."

They reached camp and Merlin took off on his own to practice with his new sword once more. He still didn't fancy killing anyone, but it granted him time to himself. Sometimes one of the others would spar with him or watch, but most of the time Merlin was able to slip away. Sometimes he simply needed the solitude.

He strolled away from their little home and wandered deeper into the forest as he practiced his taught movements while walking. He wasn't paying much attention to his training though. He couldn't.

There was another reason Merlin sought to secret himself away.

The sorcerer hadn't used his magic since leaving Camelot.

And it was slowly killing him.

He never allowed it to show, of course. It hadn't taken on noticeable physical effects, yet. But it was still there, boiling inside of him. A burning itch he refused to scratch.

Stumbling, Merlin allowed himself to collapse against a tree. Just for a moment, the sensation stole his breath away.

This wasn't the first time this had happened of course. He tried to find time alone nearly every day while this all consuming power threatened to devour him from the inside out. Merlin had felt so much pain in his short life, but this was different. It was coming from somewhere deep within him. And it hurt. Growing stronger and worse as time passed.

He wasn't sure of how much longer he could hide the effects. The agony.

It would be alright if the pain bled through his facade. He could fabricate a wound. If it came to it, he could leave his new home. Saddening, but not the most horrible option.

No, the most unthinkable outcome would be if more than the pain leaked through. If somehow he was no longer able to bind the beast inside of him. If his magic pushed its way to the surface.

He could never allow that to happen. Not around others. It was too dangerous. He was too dangerous.

He had decided when had first joined Robin's gang that, if the burning grew, if he suspected even for a second that he could no longer cage it, he would leave. Run away, again, and never look back. Seclude himself in some distant and desolate land. Detach from the world and those in it.

He had no idea how close to the edge he actually was.

Had Merlin known the frailty of his dam, the sorcerer would have abandon the others long ago.

Had he known what was about to happen, he would have never joined them at all.

He sat on the hard ground, swallowing staggering breaths and gripping the grass until his knuckles grew sore and had paled.

His eyes were clamped shut when he heard it.

The scream.

Snapping his lids open, Merlin leapt to his feet, swiftly surveying his surroundings. He clutched the sword as he strained his senses.

It sounded again. A piercing cry among the trees. A woman's shriek of fear - of pain.

Merlin didn't even hesitate or think before breaking into a run toward the source of the shout. He crashed through the branches and vaulted over stones and stumps. His own problems were forgotten as the safety of the stranger was all he could focus on.

Finally, the young hero stumbled into an opening, and onto the scene of a struggle.

And an all too familiar face.

"You?" The man cackled.

Merlin would never forget that laugh, or that crooked grin. Both were seared onto his memory.

Standing before him, hand lifted to deliver another blow to the already bleeding blonde woman he had clutched in his other arm, was the leader of the band of criminals that had taken Merlin. The man who had beaten him and used him for bait. The man Robin had banned from the forest.

"You're not supposed to be here," Merlin tried to sound confident.

"He told you that, did he? Don't tell me you're one of his new dogs. It's a big forest," Samuel shrugged. "One man doesn't make the rules for the rest of us."

"Let her go," Merlin ordered, swallowing.

"I see your face has healed nicely," Samuel chuckled. "Leave us, before I damage it again, permanently this time."

"I said," Merlin lifted his sword, " _let her go_."

"Still the same brave fool, then," Samuel spat.

"Guess so," Merlin narrowed his brow.

"Alright then," Samuel pushed the weeping woman face down onto the dirt road and brandished his own sword. "No one to save you this time."

"Or you," Merlin challenged. "I see your friends were loyal," he added sarcastically.

"You think you're better than me now that you are in league with Robin Hood," Samuel scoffed. "What makes him, or you, better than the rest of us?"

"Robin is an outlaw because he is trying to help people," Merlin countered. "You just want to hurt others."

"Well, you are right about that," Samuel smirked. "And it looks like I get to do just that now."

Merlin barely ducked in time as the man swooped forward. The servant stayed on the defensive as Samuel tirelessly swung and stabbed and Merlin dodged and parried. The servant could hear Arthur and Robin both instructing him inside his head as he struggled to keep his footing. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the battered woman unsteadily climbing to her feet.

"Run!"

He yelled and turned his head toward her just by a fraction. But it was enough. Samuel's blade kissed Merlin's cheek as the criminal's leg came up to deliver a hard kick to the boy's stomach. Merlin stumbled backward, his legs twisting underneath him. He cringed as his head connected with the solid ground, sending a chorus of drums and gongs clamoring against his skull.

"Hey hero!"

Merlin glanced up in time to see Samuel pulling a dagger from his belt.

"See if you can save her now!"

Before Merlin could respond, the monster was throwing the blade at the retreating and running woman's back.

"No!"

Merlin reached out his hand toward the woman and something happened then that he couldn't control. Couldn't stop. He didn't even sense it coming. It just happened. Like an explosion.

His magic burst out of him.

Like a wave, it ripped out from inside him and crashed over everything in its path. It pulsed outward, knocking Samuel, the knife and the woman forward to the ground. Trees shook and birds screamed in startled song. The dirt from the road danced in the air. If it continued on like this, Merlin would inadvertently take down the entire forest. He desperately tried to call the magic back to him, to reign it in.

And then, like the snap of a slingshot, the wave shot backward, recoiling back into Merlin. The wave washed sticks and stones, and the blade, up off the road and carried them back, straight toward Samuel, who was currently struggling to his feet after the blow. The knife eagerly plunged itself into the man's chest.

Samuel fell once more just as the powerful pulse returned to its owner and the scene settled.

Merlin could only stare in shock at what he had done. The man gasped and sputtered, cursing and feebly trying to drag himself toward the sorcerer. He didn't get very far before shakily drawing in what the physician's assistant knew would be his final breath. With wide eyes, the criminal collapsed, staring at the sorcerer through vacant irises.

Merlin wasn't sure how long he just sat there. It wasn't until he realized that he wasn't the only one failing to move that he snapped free from his trance. His watery gaze drifted curiously over to another slumped over form on the dirt road. The woman was lying limp and Merlin felt his stomach twist. He couldn't even bring himself to stand to go to her. He crawled slowly over to the stranger. With heavy breaths and hesitant hands, Merlin delicately turned the woman on her side. The fair skin of her forehead was decorated with a dark satin stain. The same crimson liquid, Merlin spotted somberly, colored a small jagged rock that lay half buried in the ground.

Merlin's mind reeled. Just as with the magic, there was nothing he could do to stopper the memories.

_Merlin reluctantly released his magic to throw the man away from him, and to the edge of a flight of stairs._

_Flashes of Morgana's tumbling down the steps attacked him._

_Merlin reached out to stop his friend from falling but it was too late. The knight went crashing down the stone stairwell backwards. The sorcerer sprinted to the top of the steps, staring down at the unconscious and bleeding man in terror._

Merlin recoiled physically from the memory, pulling himself violently away from the woman and pushing his body backward while still on the ground.

This was the damage his magic caused. The destruction  _he_ caused. He could never escape it. Never cage it entirely. People would continue to get hurt.

Because of him.

Samuel had been wrong. He wasn't the hero. He was the villain.

His heart and head were pounding, the latter from more than the echos of his past. He could feel his previous head wound having reopened and the sticky sensation dripping down the back of his neck.

He had to run. To escape. To leave before he hurt anyone else.

Staggering and stumbling, Merlin, after much effort, at last managed to make it to his feet. The trees twisted and turned in curious directions as Merlin hoped he was walking forward. He couldn't quite be sure. He knew he was off the road when his feet found grass and leaves. He shuffled in what he assumed was the opposite direction of his friends' camp, catching himself here and there on branches as he tripped over the forest floor, and occasionally his own feet.

It wasn't until his ankle connected with a root that Merlin finally tumbled down to his knees. The entire forest spun around him and then tilted. It was only too late when he realized it wasn't the scenery shifted, but his body, when he pitched forward into the grass and darkness.


	12. Soldier

_It wasn't until his ankle connected with a root that Merlin finally tumbled down to his knees. The entire forest spun around him and then tilted. It was only too late when he realized it wasn't the scenery shifted, but his body, when he pitched forward into the grass and darkness._

"What are you making?" Djaq inquired as she sat next to the youngest member of their group.

"Something for Merlin," Will grinned.

"Maybe you can make him some some skills with weapons," Allan teased.

"Merlin has enough of his own skills," Djaq defended her new friend.

"Yeah," Allan chuckled, "cooking and cleaning."

"Enough," Robin warned.

"And healing," Will narrowed his brow. "Besides, he isn't such a terrible fighter. He saved Djaq, remember?"

"That was luck," Allan shook his head.

"It was courage," Djaq countered.

"He can also hunt," Much crossed his arms.

"Not with a bow," Allan scoffed. "He fishes and traps."

"Does it matter  _how_  he does it?" Djaq stood.

"What do you suddenly have against Merlin?" Will glared up at the man.

"Nothing!" Allan lifted his hands in surrender. "I was just saying, is all."

"Robin," John's loud voice broke through their bickering as the large man entered the camp. "I can't find Merlin."

The group grew silent as all eyes drew swiftly to John and then to their leader.

"Perhaps he wandered too far and got lost," Djaq suggested hopefully.

"No," Will shook his head, "he told me he grew up and has lived his whole life near forests."

"He never has to ask where to go when we're collecting herbs or animals," Much added anxiously.

"He probably just fell on sword while practicing," Allan sighed.

"Allan!" Both Robin and John scolded simultaneously.

"It was just a joke," Allan shrugged.

"I've had enough of your jokes about Merlin," Robin shook his head. "Come on. Let's go. Much, stay here in case he comes back."

The gang, minus Much, collectively gathered their gear and took off in the direction the servant had taken hours earlier.

It turned out that Merlin wasn't a terribly tough person to track through the forest. For someone who spent most of his time in the wild, he certainly did not tread like it. Djaq lead the troop, following the young man's footprints and other evidence of passage. It wasn't until they came to the road did they all take pause.

Two bodies decorated the dirt along with signs of a struggle. Robin moved toward the scene first, hurrying to the woman's side. Djaq knelt next to the other victim, rolling him over with Will's aid.

"Dead," she reported and then gasped. "Robin."

"She's alive," Robin leaned over the battered, yet breathing, woman. "Just unconscious. Blow to the head."

"Robin," Djaq repeated firmly.

"Robin," Allan echoed, "you're going to want to see this."

The leader stood, leaving the woman in John's care, and joined the pair at the deceased man's side.

"It's him," Will swallowed, "one of the men who tried to take Merlin."

"I recognize him," Robin replied darkly.

"Robin," Djaq started, "what if the others were with him?"

"Would they leave her behind?" Allan questioned, nodding at the woman.

"Look," Will reached behind them, retrieving an abandon weapon from the road. "This is Merlin's sword."

An unspoken fear swept over the group as the pieces began to connect.

"Djaq," Robin ordered, "take care of her," he gestured to the woman. "The rest of us, spread out."

"This wound is fresh," Djaq nodded as the gang was already beginning their search, "they could not have gotten far."

"No," John sighed from just off to the side of the road, "not far at all."

The man's tone alerted the rest of them and they were soon at Little John's side.

Laying in front of them, shaking and sweating and bleeding, was Merlin.

"Djaq!" Robin called out and it was mere moments before the woman came bursting through the trees.

She didn't even grant herself a second of shock or hesitation as she dropped to her knees and began examining her friend.

"He's hit his head again," she informed them quickly. "There's no other serious damage that I can see."

"So where are the others?" Will glanced around curiously.

"I don't think there ever were any others," Robing sighed. "Merlin is a good man. If he saw the woman in trouble, he would not hesitate to help her."

"Hold on," Allan shook his head. "You're tellin' me,  _he_ , Mr. No-Violence,  _him_ , he called that guy?"

"He was doing it to save the woman," Djaq explained.

"Yeah, okay, but  _him_ ," Allan repeated. "I mean no offense to him or nothing, but, he isn't exactly a fighter. How did  _he_ kill that beast of a man?"

"That's not important right now," Robin knelt beside his friend. "We need to get Merlin and the woman to camp before someone comes. John, can you go and -"

Robin didn't get to finish, for just as he was reaching out his arms to lift Merlin, the unconscious man released a strangled shriek at the touch. Robin ripped his hands back as though burned. He should have expected this. Given how their new friend had awoken during their first meeting and his obvious nightmares, it was of no surprise.

What was surprising, if not disturbing, was how Merlin failed to fall silent and calm once Robin had pulled away.

Merlin's features were folded, his lips merely a tight, thin line. At least, until he screamed again. After the second piercing shout, the man began writhing among the grass. His head lolled to one side and then snapped to the other, bringing his forehead sharply against a stick. His limps twisted and turned, his shoulder slamming into the base of a tree.

"He's going to injure himself," Djaq implored as she attempted to settle the distressed man.

"We can't carry him like this," Will shook his head.

"I can," John disagreed as he bent down and scooped the struggling servant.

"John," Robin started as Merlin landed a kick in the larger man's side.

"It's alright," John nodded.

The party made it slowly back to camp, Will and Allan staying behind to bury the body.

An hour crawled by, all the while, Merlin continuing to toss and turn and whimper. The woman had awoken shortly after Djaq had tended to her injury and gratefully relayed the story of the thief and how he attacked her while she rode to visit her sister in the next village over. The horse had ran and when she refused to give the barbarian anything willingly, he decided he wanted to take much more than money. She readily recounted her hero's arrival and his duel with the criminal and how he had told her to run. It was only after that that her memory of the tale grew foggy. She only knew that she had felt someone, or something, push her down. And that was all.

Robin saw to it that she was returned to her home safely, sending John to escort her.

And then his focus shifted entirely to Merlin. The man hadn't ceased his mumbling and moaning and stirring. The sight was quite unsettling. Robin had only witnessed such behavior in soldiers or those who had experienced a particularly painful and traumatic event. Merlin might not have fought in the Holy Land or another war, but Robin knew the man was a soldier of a different brand of battle.

It certainly wasn't the attempted robbery of the stranger that did this. Possibly the slaying of the thief. But then, Merlin had already confessed to killing others before. Something had happened to trigger this. What that had been, or what Merlin was remembering, Robin did not know.

The more worrying question on Robin's mind, though, was that he also did not know how to bring Merlin back.


	13. Dreams and Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It might seem like Merlin is sort of overreacting. Maybe. But he is young and he has been through so much. I don't think it's a leap for some psychological effects to have taken place. Also, trying to bind his magic which is so much a part of him that it literally IS him could not have done much to help matters. So, apologies if you find this to be a stretch. Plus, head trauma. Plus, my story. Actually, a lot of the past few chapters were last minute additions. The story's pacing was quite a bit faster initially as by this chapter we would have already hit the climax, but people really liked the character interactions, especially Robin and Merlin, so I wanted to give them more time before...well..you'll see...*evil laughter* *Tom Hiddleston level apologies*

**Chapter Thirteen: Dreams and Reality**

Merlin didn't need a crystal cave. His own mind held enough visions for one man to bear. He could see the past, of course, but his subconscious also enjoyed gifting him with possibilities of the future.

The nightmares always found Merlin. Good days or bad, the came at the close no matter. But using his magic had awoken something so much more. Taking that man's life with his power had not only far too closely echoed a past event, but also proved his fears for the future.

His magic would be his ruin, and that of everyone around him.

_"None of us can choose our destiny, Merlin. And none of us can escape it."_

Was it his destiny to guide Arthur to the throne and bring peace to Albion? Or was it to cause the suffering of those he held dear? The latter certainly felt closer to the truth. And he knew now he truly could never escape it.

Thoughts of Arthur dragged unwanted memories to the surface.

_"I believed you. I trusted you and you made me look a complete fool."_

_"I need a servant I can trust."_

_"You can trust me!"_

_"And look where it got me this time. Get out of my sight!"_

_"Look, face it, Merlin you're living a lie. Just like you were here. You're Arthur's servant, nothing more. Otherwise you'd tell him the truth."_

How could he have expected Arthur to trust him? He was living a lie. They weren't two sides of the same coin. Sides of a coin are connected, are one. Arthur and Merlin would never be so.

_"Whatever you think my destiny is, whatever it is you think I'm supposed to do, you've got the wrong person!"_

Merlin was nothing more than a servant. A fool and a murderer. The only special about his caused others pain. And Merlin didn't think there was anything  _special_ about that.

_"No one's like you, Merlin"  
_

Hearing Gaius' voice, even in his head, just like Arthur's grieved his heart. His ties to Arthur had been severed. They had to be after what had happened.

After what he had done.

He deeply missed his friend.

But he also longed for his old mentor. The man who guided him, taught him, and sometimes just let Merlin shout at him.

_"Do you know how many times I've saved Arthur's life? I've lost count - do I get any thanks? No - I have fought griffins, witches, bandits, I have been punched, poisoned, pelted with fruit, and all the while I have to hide who I really am because if anyone finds out, Uther will have me executed. Some times I feel like I'm being pulled in so many directions I don't know which way to turn!"_

_"Do you know how it feels, to be a monster? To be afraid of who you are?"_

And, oh, was Merlin ever afraid. He had no idea how true those words would ring out when he had spoken them all those years ago.

_"He's dead."_

And with those words, Merlin's world had come crashing down. He was dead. And it was Merlin's fault. It wasn't just that he couldn't do enough or save him. No, he had killed him. His magic had made him a murderer.

_"This wasn't supposed to happen."_

Useless words.

_He gingerly turned the woman and gazed down at the stranger's stained skull._

It was happening again. His past was beginning to repeat itself.

_Morgana, tumbling down the stairs._

_The knight, his friend, falling backwards to his death, propelled down the stone stairs by his magic._

And then there were the nightmares that hadn't happened yet.

_Fields and forests burning. Mountains collapsing. Thunder and lightning and rain pouring out from black skies. The ground shaking beneath his feet. The earth cracking, shattering. Entire villages and cities and kingdoms in ruins. All by his hand. His magic exploding out him. No control. Only destruction._

_And death._

He remembered the wave his magic had created in the forest, the damage it could have so easily wrought, and it only made the fears more real.

Again and again the images assaulted his mind. Dreams fading in with reality. Unable to stop his mind, just as he feared he would be unable to stop his magic.

* * *

Darkness had descended upon the forest and still Merlin showed no signs of improvement. Improvement, not waking, because, not some minutes after dusk did the young man's eyes shoot wide open. He remained, though, unresponsive. Laying on his back, silent tears slipping down his face, Merlin appeared as though in the clutches of some sinister trance. He stared solely up at the black sky, but Robin was certain he was seeing things that were not in their physical world.

The boy was trapped in his own mind, held captive by some tragic memory. Paralyzed by pain and terror.

Djaq had given Merlin remedies, but none had proven beneficial in doing much more than calming his cries.

"I don't know what else to do," Djaq shook her head as she sat down by the fire, her gaze still drifting back toward where Merlin lay. "He would know."

"Doesn't look like there's much more we  _can_ do," John sighed.

* * *

"Have you made the arrangements?" The raven haired woman stepped forward from the shadows and into the light, her slender fingers coming up to caress the man's face.

"The King has agreed to come to Nottingham to attend the banquet at what he believes is the prince's invitation," Guy grinned darkly. "He, of course, was told that the feast would be a front, a disguise to distract the villagers from the true purpose of the meeting. To discuss you. He thinks you've been spotted in Nottingham. He won't know you're waiting for him right inside the castle walls. All is going according to plan."

"Good," she sneered. "It better."


	14. Awakening

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

That was the first and last thing Merlin said.

For days.

He had finally awoken from his trance several hours before Robin tried to talk to him.

And that was all the reply he received for his efforts.

Something was quite severely troubling the physician's assistant. Merlin was painfully obviously suffering and there was nothing any of his new friends could do for him.

The moment Merlin had roused to reality, he had been ready to flee. He wanted nothing more than to run away and hide like he had planned. To spare his friends from curse.

But they weren't letting him.

Merlin was being watched like a hawk eyed its prey. The whole gang was on edge and worried for him. Maybe they knew he was ready to bolt. Maybe they thought he was going to slip back into the previous episode of shock and nightmares. Perhaps they didn't know at all what he might do.

But they never stopped.

So Merlin couldn't run.

Not yet.

It was three days later when Merlin started speaking again. He wouldn't converse as he once had with the others, but he wouldn't refuse to respond. He ate and slept regularly. He gathered herbs, always with Much there to "help", or as Merlin knew better, keep an eye on him. He even prepared meals and treated wounds.

But he wasn't the same.

It was as though he had retreated so far into himself that all that was left was a shell.

A shell that was planning an escape.

He made planned progress. If his friends thought he was improving, they might lengthen the leash.

He forced smiles and feigned laughter. Made light conversation and joined in on jokes. But there was always something there. In his eyes. In his voice. In him.

It was over a month later that Merlin was finally left on his own. The others had heard word of a possible person of nobility passing through their woods and had departed while the physician assistant cooked their supper.

Merlin was ready.

He had thought he had prepared for this. Yet, as he gathered his possessions to leave, his mind and heart lingered.

"Merlin! Merlin!"

Robin's cries shook the young wizard quite harshly from his contemplative state. The sheer volume of panic in the leader's voice was enough to snap Merlin into immediate action. Rising to his feet, Merlin broke into a sprint, charging through the forest in the direction of the terrible screams.

He had never heard Robin call anyone's name like that. So much terror. Pain. Even in his distant state, Merlin came to life when others' were in danger.

Merlin's boots skidded to a sudden stop as he nearly collided with a winded and worried Djaq. He didn't see the tears beginning to fill her wide eyes. He didn't hear her hurried words. All Merlin could focus on were the woman's hands. They were shaking - and stained scarlet.

His eyes snapped up at the sound of movement in the trees. He watched in muted horror as the rest of the gang began to appear, a limp figure hanging loosely in the largest member's arms.

Will lay, looking lifeless in John's grasp as the giant of a man stampeded through the forest, the rest of the gang following closely behind. Merlin turned and began running back to camp, just as the others reached him.

"Hot water," Djaq called out in a cracked voice as John gingerly laid the boy down inside their camp.

"What happened?" Merlin questioned as he quickly examined his patient - his friend.

"They had skilled fighters," Djaq explained weakly.

"Skilled?" Allan scoffed. "They were knights! And not half brained guys like the sheriff's got. We're lucky to be alive."

"Allan," Little John silenced the man's rant with a sharp look towards their fallen friend.

Merlin ignored the others almost entirely as he ransacked his and the camp's supplies.

"His shirt," Merlin instructed as he began mixing various herbs together.

John didn't hesitate in ripping the fabric, but he did pause when he saw just what had been hiding underneath. The cloth that he tossed aside had already been soaked and dyed crimson, but seeing it on the boy's skin was somehow so much different. Will's stomach was decorated red. The blood poured out like water and John couldn't help it when he briefly glanced away, suppressing the urge to heave right there. Even still, John managed to keep his hands steady as he placed them over the open wound.

The others were equally shook by what they saw. Robin closed his eyes and swallowed while Much had to physically leave the camp. Allan stared at the injury, unable to tear his gaze away from the horror. Djaq tried in vain to keep herself steady and strong. She only hesitated for a moment before placing her trembling hands over the hole in the body of the man that she secretly loved, taking over for John. She had done the same in the aftermath of the battle but she had not seen the extent of the damage.

The knight's blade had been swallowed by Will's stomach. The swordsman had been surprised by the young outlaw. When he had realized what he was doing and saw the youth reflected in Will's face, something seemed to snap inside of him. He pulled the sword back before it could delve any deeper, leaving only the tip tainted with the young stranger's blood.

A shaky breath drew the attention of everyone in the camp. All eyes frantically fell on the waking wounded member.

Will stirred and then suddenly started to sit up. John and Djaq quickly held their struggling friend down.

"Calm down," John spoke, his gruff voice gentle.

Will's foggy gaze found John's, and then Djaq's. She held his head in her hands and they stared silently at each other for a stretched moment. It was only interrupted when Will grimaced, his eyelids pressing down with all their strength. A hiss of pain escaped his lips, followed swiftly by a sucking, yet shallow, breath.

"This should help stop the bleeding," Merlin explained as he knelt beside them and began to apply a paste to the opening in the man's abdomen.

Will winced and groaned, instinctively twisting away from the touch.

"Djaq, can you -"

"I am on it."

The two continued wordlessly like that for some time, neither needing much instruction as they worked on experience and instinct. Much was sent for more water as Allan was put on a mission to find more clean bandages when the first set soaked through almost instantly.

"Robin," Will choked on the name and the leader immediately crouched down next to him, careful to not interfere with Merlin and Djaq's efforts.

"Robin," Will repeated, "I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I -"

"Shh," Robin shook his head and placed a strong hand on the younger's shoulder. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I saw the knight who did it," Allan grumbled. "I swear, I'm gonna kill him."

"Allan," Robin sighed. "Not now.

"Me too," John grunted in agreement.

"Nobody's dying," Robin snapped authoritatively.

The camp fell sharply silent at the second meaning behind their leader's declaration.

"You'll all have to wait in line behind me," Will sputtered and coughed and everyone couldn't help but smile or chuckle.

His cocky and comical expression contorted and everyone's brief moment of joy vanished.


	15. Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: After all the Merlin-centered drama, you get some fresh faces! Will in danger and even a Marian cameo! Let's give the other characters some screen time, shall we?

Merlin and Djaq worked together as night crept upon the camp, John assisting in every way he was able. The outlaws took little notice to the passing of the day . They took little notice of anything.

The only change came when a familiar whistle broke the early evening's silence. Robin gave Will a long look before the boy nodded. Patting his shoulder once more, Robin stood and left the camp in search of a certain songbird.

Marian stood next to her horse, lovingly caressing its mane. She quickly turned her attention from the animal at the sound of the familiar footfalls. Even amongst stone and leaves, she always knew when it was him. Her eager grin at seeing the man she loved soon faltered and faded as he drew closer. Through the dim moonlight that managed to snake its way through the towering treetops, Marain could see the line of pain and sorrow etched into the man's face.

"Robin?" She stepped forward, taking his hands in hers. "What is it?"

"Will," Robin barely could force the name out of the lump that was his throat.

"Is he -" Marian neglected to finish the question.

"No," Robin shook his head, "but it won't be long. I saw the looks on Merlin and Djaq's faces."

"What happened?" Marian asked urgently.

"We were robbing someone of nobility," Robin spoke as though it had occured years instead of hours ago. "They were well trained. They resisted. One of them stabbed Will."

"Robin," Marian's eyes were glowing in the moonlight, "they are who I've come here to tell you about." She paused as he gazed at her and she could see the questions in his tired eyes. "The sheriff has been preparing for guests for some time now. Guy won't even tell me who they are. All I've been able to learn is that he is expecting visitors in the next few days." She hesitated and set Robin with a serious stare. "And then tonight. Tonight I overheard them discussing plans to kill the king."

Robin's downcast eyes turned dark.

"There hasn't been any word of the king returning to England." Robin shook his head.

"Maybe he's one of the expected visitors," Marian reasoned.

"This doesn't make any sense," Robin again shifted his head from side to side.

"I know," Marian sighed, "but with how secretive Guy has been, the sheriff is definitely up to something."

"The sheriff is always up to something," Robin replied ruefully.

"Guy has never been this distant from me," Marian continued. "If I didn't know any better, he seems - frightened. On edge."

"Well, we wouldn't want him getting scared," Robin scoffed.

"Robin -"

"Just how close have the two of you been getting that you're noticing this sudden distance?" Robin asked, acid on his tongue.

"You know very well that it is not like that," Marian snapped sourly.

"Do I?" Robin challenged.

"Of course you do," Marian replied, her tone somewhat softer. "You're tried." She stroked his dark circles that cradled his eyes. "You haven't been sleeping again."

"I have to get back," Robin pulled away from her touch. "You should return before Gisbourne misses you."

Marian tried to ignore the venom in his voice. He obviously had been deprived proper rest in days and now Will was balancing between life and death.

"May I see him?" Marian asked quietly.

"Isn't Gisbourne waiting?" Robin hissed.

"That's enough, Robin!" Marian finally snapped. "This isn't about  _us_ right now! This is about  _Will_."

Robin fell silent, his accussing gaze flashing to one of agony.

"Robin," Marian's voice dropped an octave instantly. "What is it?"

"This is my fault," he bit off the words underneath his breath.

"Robin, no. This isn't -"

"Yes it is," Robin declared desperately. "He's just a boy! I should've never let him stay. I should've made him go with his father and brother."

"He wouldn't have listened."

"I could've made him listen."

"He wouldn't have been happy -"

"But he wouldn't be dying!" Robin's throat was laced with unshed tears. "Much almost died last week. If Merlin hadn't been there -" Robin shook his head to dispel the thought. "How many times must I put my own friends in danger?"

"You do not put them in danger," Marian objected. "They put themselves in danger. Not just for you. But for what is right. For Nottingham. For England."

The two stood in shared silence for several stolen moments before, without warning, Marian stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her love's shoulders.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair.

"You better be." Marian's words were harsh, but they failed to match her tone as she smiled into Robin's cheek.

They remained like that for some time, their tears entwining as they cascaded down each others' cheeks. In that moment, the two were one.


	16. Conflicted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, back to Will dying and lots of Merlin angst and whatnot.

When Robin and Marian entered the camp, there were no more shouted orders or finishing of sentences. Everyone was solemnly silent as Merlin and Djaq wiped the access blood from their patient's abdomen.

Marian softly smiled at Will as she approached. He offered her a weak upward twitch of his lips. Merlin stood, allowing Marian to take over with the cleaning when she offered. Nearly stumbling out of the camp, Merlin made his way to a nearby stream. Crashing to his knees at the water's edge, the tired physician dipped his trembling hands into the flowing water, poisoning it with the blood of a dying man. He vaguely remembered the night after he had been nearly killed by the Dorocha. Lancelot had described to Merlin the creature that had spoken to him from out of the water and how the spirits had healed him.

He stared down at his still scarlet stained hands for a long moment.

Magic had saved him then. Magic had saved him and those he cared about countless times over. He wanted to turn to it now, to fall into its welcoming embrace.

Magic could save Will.

He could save Will.

His memory flashed to a different day. A dark day. He could see the images playing out in the reflection of the stream. He could see his own desperation and guilt. The fatal error. The death. The death by magic's hands. By his hands.

And then he was watching the incident on the road. The thief. The knife.

He saw his dreams, nightmares. The world crumbling at his hands.

With a small shout, Merlin punctured the water's surface with his fist, dissolving the unwanted images. The illusion faded and in its place was his own forlorn face, a familiar figure standing behind him. Merlin hastily cleared his throat of tears and returned to scrubbing his fingers, ashamed at the audience to his display.

"Can't get it off," Merlin mumbled.

There was so much blood on his hands, and it wasn't all Will's. Even as his hands lost their crimson color, he could still see it there. He could always see it.

Robin simply stood there, silently watching the young man. He didn't speak. He didn't move. He just, waited. He could see Merlin's face in the reflection. His features reflected that of the expression he had worn so often before. What continually was plaguing Merlin's mind though, Robin did not know.

"I want to save him," Merlin's voice broke between words.

"I know," Robin sighed, "we all know that. We won't blame you. You've done all you can."

"What if I haven't?"

"What else is there?" Robin swallowed, missing the guilty way Merlin averted his gaze. "We all want Will to survive but –"

"What about magic?"

The words fell out of Merlin's mouth so fast he hadn't realized until it was too late that he had spoken them.

"Magic?" Robin repeated in disbelief. "Witchcraft?"

"Some magic," Merlin hurried to explain, "I've heard, isn't bad. It – it can be good. It can be used to help people, to – to save people."

Was he actually saying this? Was he actually considering this – again? Just earlier that same day he had been ready to run, to spare his friends from this side of him.

"If magic itself does exist," Robin replied slowly, "I don't –"

"You don't believe in magic?" Merlin finally turned to face his friend.

"You asked me once if I believed in miracles," Robin began suspiciously. "Were you talking about magic then too?"

Merlin dropped his eyes from the accusing ones that fell upon him. He remembered that. It had been after he had been unable - no - unwilling - to treat the woman who had fallen from the cliff and lost the use of her legs.

"Is there something you're not telling me, Merlin?"

"I –" Merlin started and stopped several times. "I – I've seen it."

"Seen it?" Robin asked skeptically. "You've seen magic?"

"Yes," Merlin's answer was clipped and careful.

"Just because you've seen magic, and I am not saying you have, does not mean you could possibly  _use_ it. Such talk is dangerous."

"So is talk of rebellion and yet you save lives," Merlin countered timidly.

"That is different," Robin shook his head.

"How do you know?" Merlin challenged, more bravely than he actually felt.

"Look," Robin sighed, "I know you want to do everything you can to save Will, but you can't use witchcraft. Promise me you won't think any further on this."

Merlin wordlessly nodded, returning to face the stream, his eyes disappearing into that faraway place once more.

He had vowed to never use magic again. None. And this wasn't just some simple spell. This was advanced, tricky. Even if he wanted to, he surely was far too out of practice.

Besides, he wouldn't risk it again.

He couldn't.

He nearly jumped when someone suddenly sat down next to him. Merlin glanced in the water's mirror. Robin was gone. Instead, Djaq now looked back at him. She began washing her hands without looking at Merlin.

"Could you do it?" She questioned quietly.

Merlin stared at her in confusion, yet she still would not look at him.

"I overheard you and Robin talking."

"One of us should be with Will," Merlin tried to escape the conversation.

"John and Marian are with him," she countered coolly. "They can come for us if we are needed."

"I should gather more herbs," Merlin made a move to stand.

"I sent Much and Allan." Djaq stomped on his excuse to flee.

"They don't know what to look for." Merlin shook his head.

"Will is beyond medicine now," Djaq said soberly. "But  _you_ could save him."

"It's a book," Merlin shrugged, falling back onto years of lies, "just a book. It doesn't mean anything."

"Do not lie to me, Merlin," Djaq suddenly was staring at him sharply. "Can you heal him or not?"

"Even if I could, you heard Robin," Merlin reached for another way out of this.

"That is not an answer."

Merlin had to turn away from her penetrating, yet pleading gaze.

"No," he whispered hoarsely, "I can't."

Djaq looked at Merlin for a long moment before returning to washing her hands, the whole time Merlin dutifully averting her eyes. When she had finished, Djaq reluctantly stood.

"Fine," Djaq stood, brushing off the dirt from her clothes, "here."

A small item dropped into Merlin's lap and he examined it curiously. His stomach dropped as he recognized it immediately.

"Will made it for you a long time ago," Djaq explained. "And then you stopped talking. He didn't know how to be around you. He did not wish to upset you further. He is your friend. We _all_ are your friends."

Merlin felt her eyes on him like two knives piercing the back of his skull as she walked away. She could feel her confusion, anger, grief, desperation, all of it. He knew that raging storm of emotions well enough himself.

He desired to do everything in his power to save his new friend. Will was kind and intelligent and had so much promise. Merlin had bonded with each member of the gang in different ways. He could share servant duties and stories with Much. He traded healing knowledge with Djaq. He connected with Robin in a way neither quite understood. He enjoyed listening to Little John tell tales, while Allan stuck to tall tales.

Will was the closest to him in age, but they shared much more than that. Each of them had left their families to do their part for the greater good. They both had watched their fathers being brutally murdered right in front of them. Merlin found himself fascinated with Will's woodwork and other creations. They conversed and laughed easily together. Nothing about their friendship ever felt forced.

Nothing felt forced with any of his new friends.

He stared down at the wooden carved tag in his hands that marked him as one of the gang.

The gang.

His friends.

Will was his friend.

And Merlin refused to sit idly by and watch one of his friends die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know Merlin seems like he is flip flopping all over the place! He was just about to run away because of his magic and now this! But, even on the show, Merlin was often conflicted. But then when it came to helping others, magic won out. PLUS, ya'll would kill me if I let Will die!


	17. The Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: FINALLY! THE REVEAL! WHAT HAPPENED IN CAMELOT?! (well...some of it)
> 
> Like I said, Merlin is flip flopping! But he does that in the show! And I couldn't let him sit by while Will was dying, now could I? Will getting hurt was the wake up call Merlin needed after shutting himself off.
> 
> Oh, and some Will/Djaq cuteness. I've been so focused on poor Merlin these Marian/Robin & Djaq/Will moments seem to be popping from nowhere. Whoops. Darn you Merlin for stealing all of my attention. This is a crossover, not a Merlin-steals-the-show-over!

_He stared down at the wooden carved tag in his hands that marked him as one of the gang._

_The gang._

_His friends._

_Will was his friend._

_And Merlin refused to sit idly by and watch one of his friends die._

Memories and warnings screamed against his skull as he stood and made his determined way back to camp. He marched past Allan even as the man called out his name. He ignored Robin when he stopped short speaking with Marian and cast him a curious glance. Merlin only paused when he reached the inside of the camp, and Will.

Djaq was at his side once more, though, this time alone. She stroked his matted hair as her eyes swam inside his. Without words, they spoke to each other. Stifling tears with a shaking breath, Djaq moved her other hand to rest atop his. Their gaze remained unbroken as Will weakly turned his hand over, lacing his fingers with hers.

"I love you," Djaq's words were whispered so low, as if they didn't need the words to know the truth. "I'm sorry. I should've told you sooner."

"And I, you," Will lamented. "I love you, too. I think I've loved you since I met you."

"I believe I loved you when I first saw you," Djaq nodded. "You're kind heart. Your handsome face."

"Your ability to fight so like a man, but in every way you are a beautiful woman," Will coughed. "If I'm to die, then I'm happy it is with you here."

Merlin looked away, almost ashamed at invading such a private moment. And yet, he was glad. Now he was all the more ready. He remembered the anguish, the missing part of himself, after Freya died. He could not allow anyone else to endure that agony if he could help it.

Merlin cleared his throat and the two glanced over to their audience. The wizard fixed Djaq with a knowing look in his determined eyes. With a short nod, Merlin confirmed and answered the question in her mind. Her irises alit as she stood and hurried to him.

"What will you tell the others?" She whispered.

"Nothing," Merlin murmured.

"What about Robin?"

"He told me not to use witchcraft," Merlin explained. "This isn't witchcraft. It's magic. He told me to do everything in my power, and I am going to."

"How will we explain it?" Djaq pressed.

"A new potion," Merlin shrugged. "I don't know. Do you think Will will tell them?"

"No," Djaq promised. "Will is a good man. As are you."

"I'm not so sure," Merlin said distantly, but then recovered his resolve. "Even if the others do find out, I can always leave."  _I still plan to._

"I do not think it would come to that," Djaq urged.

"I know how people view magic," Merlin argued. "I've had to live with this secret my whole life. Very few have the same view as you."

"I think you'd be surprised," Djaq insisted. "We are all your friends."

"I've lost more than friendships for revealing my magic before," Merlin declared darkly. "I promised myself I would never use it again. But I can't let him die. I'll do this one thing and that'll be it."

"But you could do so much more." Djaq implored.

"You have no idea how much more," Merlin shook his head, his eyes and voice darkening. "You don't know how dangerous it is. I don't even know –"

Merlin stopped, hearing the screams of his past echo in his mind.

"Don't even know what?" Djaq prompted.

"I don't even know if this will work," Merlin finally revealed. "I – I could – I could kill him."

"He is already dying," Djaq pleaded.

"I know," Merlin sighed, "otherwise I wouldn't take the risk."

"What do you need?"

Merlin and Djaq hastily went about collecting the necessary ingredients, Merlin didn't need to look up the spell. He would never forget those ancient words. They were scarred onto his mind and heart for all eternity.

As he bent over the boy, his mind reeled back to the last time he had performed this spell. The last time he had performed any verbal incantations.

_"He's dead."_

_Merlin stared in shock at the king who had moments ago had breath in his lungs and life in his body. Now both were gone. The king was dead. His best friend's father was gone. At his own hands. He heard Arthur distantly, but couldn't quite comprehend the words._

_"This wasn't supposed to happen," was all he could force his clinched throat to croak out._

_Before Merlin could understand what had gone wrong, Arthur was charging at him, sword drawn. Merlin reacted on pure instinct._

_Thrusting a hand into the air,_ _Merlin watched in muted horror as his friend was flung across the room. He didn't have time to worry about Arthur though as the prince called for his guards. Merlin made for the door, his old bones protesting as he hobbled down the hall. He rounded a corner and was ready to down the potion and transform when a sword was placed against his chest._

_"Do_ not  _move," Gwaine warned._

_"You must let me pass," Merlin demanded in his coarse voice._

_"I must?" Gwaine laughed._

_"I do not want to hurt youm" the elderly wizard warned._

_"Was that a threat?"_

_Merlin felt the tip of the blade slide from his chest to his neck. Gwaine was already shouting for guards when Merlin reluctantly released his magic to throw Gwaine away from him, and to the edge of a flight of stairs._

_Flashes of Morgana's tumbling down the steps attacked him._

_Merlin reached out to stop his friend from falling but it was too late. The knight went crashing down the stone stairwell backwards. The sorcerer sprinted to the top of the steps, staring down at the unconscious man in terror. And the dark stain that looked far too familiar to blood pooling by his skull._

_Had he killed him as he nearly had Morgana?_

_Gwaine wasn't moving and was sprawled out in an odd sort of way that caused Merlin grave fear. He was too distracted with his fallen friend that he did not notice the prince prowling behind him. Needing to help Gwaine, but unable to do so as a wanted fugitive, Merlin hastily swallowed the magical liquid, relieved when youth breathed back into his bones._

_Before he could take a single step, he felt his body being suddenly and violently pressed up against a wall. His arm twisted in the prince's grip behind his back, his cheek flattening against the cold stone._

_"Arthur?" Merlin glanced behind him. "It's me!"_

_"Don't lie to me, sorcerer!" Arthur seethed. "I saw you change your form just now! How long have you been pretending to be my servant?"_

_"I -"_

_"Where's Merlin?" Arthur demanded dangerously, thrusting said servant against the wall once more._

_Merlin grasped for an answer, any answer._

_"What have you done with him?" Arthur pressed Merlin's face against the stone so hard the young wizard was sure his cheekbone was going to shatter._

_"Did you kill him like you did my father?" The venom in Arthur's voice poisoned Merlin's heart._

_What could he say? If he told Arthur the truth, the prince very well might run him through right there, if he believed him at all. The king was dead. Uther had been killed. By magic. By Merlin._

"Merlin."

Merlin shook his head, clawing his way back to reality at the sound of Djaq's voice. He blinked heavily, finding her form in front of him.

"What is the matter?" She questioned, a concern in her eyes for him that Merlin hadn't seen in a long time.

"I - I can't do this," Merlin swallowed.

"What? Yes you can. If you do not, Will will die."

"And if I do it, I could kill him," Merlin snapped so strongly and so much out of his usual character that Djaq took a step back.

"Is that what you are afraid of?" She drew forward again. "You agreed. He is dying anyway."

"Better him die by his attacker's hands than mine," Merlin whispered.

"What do you mean? If magic does not work, it is not your fault."

"You don't understand," Merlin sighed. "It might not just not work. It - it could kill him. The  _spell_ could kill him." He paused and turned his head as far away from her penetrating gaze as possible. "I have too much blood on my hands."

"And if you stand by and do nothing?" Djaq challenged, sidestepping into his sight. "If you do not even try? Then  _that_  will be on your hands."

Merlin stared at her for a long moment. Everything inside of him was tearing in different directions. The decision was ripping him apart. Magic against logic. Conscious against fear. Guilt against hope.

A cracking cough cut their debate short and both parties turned in time to see Will's chest begin to heave violently.

Djaq reached him first, sliding to her knees and quickly grasping Will's trembling hand. His eyes were filled with fog as they vaguely wandered toward the sky.

"Do something!' Djaq demanded desperately.

In that instant, all reason abandoned Merlin. He didn't think. He simply acted. His body was moving before his brain told it to. He grabbed the mixture of herbs and knelt above Will, just as the man's eyes drew closed. Merlin could hear Djaq's words of protest as the man she loved slipped away from this world, and from her. He couldn't listen though. His mind still wasn't working properly anyway. His lips began forming those never forgotten words without his brain's permission.

Djaq stared in shock and staggering hope at Merlin as the foreign, ancient phrases poured from his mouth. She couldn't help but gasp when the physician's eyes suddenly glowed a brilliant gold. As the magic faded from Merlin's irises, so did the adrenaline and strength from his body. His senses returned in a stampede, panic leading the troops of emotions.

What had he done? How had he let himself use magic again?  _This spell_ again?

His inner turmoil was silenced as a sharp intake of breath drew his attention. Merlin hesitantly glanced down at his patient, expecting the worst.

Will Scarlet lay in front of him, gasping, not from dying, but from breathing in new life. Merlin himself released a strangled breath he hadn't realized he had been holding onto. Across from him, Djaq was leaning over Will, smothering his hair with her hand and sobbing through joyful laughter.

"Am I alive?"

The quiet question caused Merlin and Djaq to chuckle through the grief that still hung at the edges of their very souls.

Djaq brought Will's face to her own, crashing her tear stained lips against his.

"Does that answer your question?" She smiled.

"Not sure," Will teased. "Want to tell me again?"

Their mouths embraced eagerly, their hands finding the back of each others' heads, fingers dancing in the others' hair.

Merlin's eyes fell to the ground as he allowed the two their private moment. He waited several seconds before clearing his throat.

The two loves parted rather reluctantly and then turned guiltily towards their audience.

"How do you feel?" Merlin questioned curiously, still waiting for the magic to backfire.

"Alive," Will grinned, "thanks to you. Both of you." Will smiled up at Djaq.

"What do you remember?" She asked suddenly, stealing the words from Merlin's tongue.

"Uh, I remember being stabbed," he paused and his grin reformed tenfold. "I remember you telling me that you love me." They shared a long look before he continued. "People talking. Pieces, faces. Nothing else. Just waking up."

Merlin shared a subtle serious glance with Djaq. Their silent conversation was abruptly interrupted as Will began to stir. He made a move to sit up and grunted, grabbing his stomach. Merlin and Djaq promptly pushed their patient back down.

"Easy," Merlin warned. "Let me take a look."

Casting several glances at Djaq while he did so, the young physician carefully removed the bandaging from Will's abdomen. His eyes grew dark as the wound was revealed. Blood was no longer flowing freely and the extent of the damage had visibly decreased, but the injury still stubbornly remained. Merlin caught Djaq's worried and questioning gaze.

"I'll give you something for the pain," Merlin spoke quickly, re-bandaging the area.

Merlin stood and shuffled over to the scattered supplies. He began preparing a potion, waiting for Djaq as he knew she would soon join him.

"What happened?" She whispered once at his side.

"I don't know," Merlin replied honestly.

"I thought he was supposed to be healed." She wasn't angry at the sorcerer, merely confused.

"I know," Merlin sighed softly. "It's been a long time since I have used this level of magic. Something, maybe, maybe something went wrong. He's alive," Merlin reasoned. "The wound is no longer fatal. He will survive. He will just need medicine and rest. No more magic."

Djaq didn't argue with the firmness in his voice.

"Here," Merlin handed her the potion he had been mixing. "Give him this."

Before the vial could reach her fingers, Merlin's hand went slack. The potion slipped from his grasp as the physician tilted sideways. Djaq was quick. She had already caught the potion and was steadying her friend before Merlin could even grasp what had just happened.

"Are you alright?" Djaq asked urgently.

"Yes," Merlin swallowed and nodded. "Like I said, it has been awhile. The magic - can be draining."

Of course, that was only partially the truth. A flood of reasons caused the near collapse that Merlin was merely not willing to confess just then. Yes, he was weakened from performing such powerful magic while out of practice. Yet also, he was having difficulty containing his magic more so than ever. It was bubbling to the surface, boiling just underneath his skin.

Merlin watched as Djaq returned to Will's side after muttering another sincere word of thanks to the wizard. She knelt beside Will with a soft smile. He took the drink from her without question, his eyelids beginning their descent before the bottle had left his lips.

"You said it was for pain," Djaq sniffed the potion. "This is part sleeping draft. Powerful, too."

"I told you, he needs rest," Merlin swallowed.

"What is it?" Djaq could sense something off in the young man's voice.

"I've spent my whole life hiding my magic," Merlin explained in a hurried and hushed voice. "I know what even a little suspicion can lead to. I talked to Robin about magic. If Will recovers now, he will have questions, for me."

"Robin is not like that," Djaq shook her head. "He would not -"

"Please, Djaq," Merlin wondered when he had closed his eyes before opening them sharply. "I can't take chances. I've had to run before. I will do it again if I have to but I don't want to."

"What do we do?"

"I'll leave. Go into the forest. I'll say I need more herbs. He will wake up while I'm gone."

"I've seen that sleeping potion before. He will not wake until morning."

"Then I guess I'll be out all night," Merlin shrugged, still skating the truth. "It was all I had. I'll figure something out. Please."

"I saw your bag when we came back," Djaq spoke softly. "You were going to leave."

There was a stretched silence before Merlin sighed.

"I was," he nodded. "I'm not anymore."

"Merlin -"

"I'll come back, Djaq."

Djaq nodded and Merlin didn't waste any time in gathering his satchel and leaving the enclosed camp. He didn't promise he would return and was grateful the observant woman hadn't noticed.

Because this time Merlin was leaving, for good. This time, he would go somewhere no one would find him.


	18. Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Raise your hand if you think someone is going to find Merlin because the guy can't catch a break...

_Because this time Merlin was leaving, for good. This time, he would go somewhere no one would find him._

Marian walked the castle halls with her shoulders lowered and her pace slow.

She didn't want to be there.

Robin needed her in the forest.

What good could she do him or Merlin or Will or any of them behind the stone walls?

Marian had been present for Will's miraculous recovery. To say she had been relieved was quite certainly an understatement. Of course, she had been far from the only one to feel joy over his survival. The entire camp had been a scene of rapture and smiles and shouts and, yes, even singing. Well, the last part was mostly Much.

She had returned in the morning to check on Will and had entered upon quite an altered scene.

There were no more cheers or celebration. The jubilation from the previous night was missing.

And so was Merlin.

Again.

And yet instead of helping search for the young physician's assistant, Robin had sent her back to the castle, claiming that her evening and morning absence would already be questioned.

So, here she was, walking the corridors feeling utterly useless. She was barely aware of the fact that her aimless wandering had lead her toward Guy's chambers. Upon realizing this, she immediately made to turn around.

It was only then that muffled voices permeating from the other side of his door met her ears.

Ever so silently, Marian crept forward, listening to the man she knew and the voice she didn't recognize.

* * *

"So,  _Guy_ , can I trust your sheriff?" The dark haired beauty circled the man in a predatory fashion, her hungry eyes devouring him.

"Yes," he answered strongly, though somehow her striking stare was making him feel somewhat weak. "He will make good on his deal. You help us bring down Hood. The king will be - dealt with. And you will have what you wish."

"And what about  _you_?" She purred, running a wandering finger over the side of his chin.

"Of course," he swallowed, his confidence collapsing.

"Are you lying to me, Guy?" She cooed, as if addressing a small child.

"No, my lady."

"Good," The temptress' smile was somewhere between sinister and seductive. "Now," she began, that stray finger now stroking his cheek. "Is there anything else I might be able to gain from our little arrangement?"

Her lips brushed his as she spoke. He felt himself growing warm. This was something far different from what he experienced with Marian. It was lust, he knew that much. Dangerous, exciting, primal. He felt drawn to her. Despite his distaste for everything the woman stood for. Despite the rock in his gut that told him not to trust the seductress. Despite his all consuming love for another woman.

Despite it all.

Guy Gisbourne leaned forward, savagely stealing a kiss from those rose lips that sat against ivory skin. She gladly accepted his advance, pushing herself against him. His arms found her waist as hers wrapped around his head. Throwing everything else out the door, Guy eagerly embraced the erotic ecstasy.

That was, of course, until another door opened.

"Guy?"

The angry, accusatory voice promptly put any of Gisbourne's desires on ice.

"Marian," he sighed, turning reluctantly to the door.

She didn't respond.

Instead, Marian promptly turned on her heel and hurried away to escape the scene that had just scarred her eyes.

Guy didn't see the raven haired woman's eyes turn to black ice as he abandon her to run after the retreating brunette.

"Marian!"

He called after her again but she was out of sight.

She could hear him pursuing her, his urgent footfalls echoing in the halls behind her. She needed to steal herself away. To escape Guy and the woman. But mostly, to get to Robin.

Because it wasn't what she had seen that had truly disturbed her.

No, it was what she had heard.

A plot against Robin.

Against the king.

The whispers she had been hearing and feeding to Robin were true. She had to tell him. He had to know.

Common sense screamed at her to wait, to hide and then escape later. To wait until nightfall. That Robin wouldn't even be at the camp because he was searching for Merlin.

But common sense was currently being trampled on by panic and the weight in her gut that told her there wasn't time to waste. Whatever they were planning, whatever was happening, was soon.

She feared she would already be too late.

Marian was an expert at evading being seen when she so desired, and even more skilled at secreting away outside of the castle. She had long since stopped hearing signs of Guy's pursuit before she successfully slipped from the castle unseen.

Her horse carried her into the woods, and she took off through the trees. She didn't follow her usual path to Robin's secret location, in case she was being tracked by Gisbourne. She moved through the forest still though with haste. Even if Robin wouldn't be there, Djaq had remained at camp with Will. She could at least leave her message with them and make sure they were safe. She did not know what this woman's plans were to bring Robin and the others down and she feared their fate if she somehow knew of their hidden home. Will was still wounded, alive, but far from fighting fit. Djaq was skilled, but how long could she last against a siege?

It wasn't until her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure in the forest did she slow her pace.

"Merlin?"

She called out to the man as she climbed down from her horse.

The young man staggered at her call. His eyes were distant before they found and focused on Marian. She wondered exactly how lost in thought he could have been to not even hear a horse approaching.

"Merlin? What are you doing?" She stepped toward him. "Everyone is worried. They are looking for you."

"They shouldn't be," Merlin said in a lowered voice that Marian was almost sure she wasn't supposed to hear.

"Why not? What's wrong?" She closed the distance between them, as he had not moved since being found. "What happened?"

"Please," Merlin stumbled back a bit, "stay away from me."

"Okay," Marian lifted her hands in sign of surrender. "Just talk to me, then, Merlin. Tell me what is going on so I can help."

"No one can help." Merlin muttered.

She didn't understand. No one could understand. Why couldn't she just leave? Why did she have to find him? Now? Like this?

The magic was burning him from the inside out. It ripped and clawed underneath his skin ever since performing the spell. It wasn't going to be contained any longer after having two breaths of freedom. It wanted out. Now.

Marian watched as Merlin's face paled and then discolored. The boy looked as though he was about to be ill right there in the grass. She took another tentative step toward him.

"Merlin? Are you -"

"Please, just stay away from me!"

Merlin lifted his hands and a branch from a tree above them came crashing down, setting its course to land on top of Marian. The woman screamed and jumped back, but not in time.

It was only Merlin's quick flick of his wrist that sent the large branch soaring aside and spared her life.

She stared at the young man with wide eyes for several staggering seconds, unable to form speech. She couldn't create sensible words for something she couldn't make sense of. Her brain knew what she had just witnessed, and yet was hastily trying to deny it.

"What - what was - ?"

"I knew it!"

The pair jumped and turned at the new voice. Guy Gisbourne emerged from atop an overhang, where he had no doubt been watching. But for how long?

He leapt from his steed and drew his sword in one swift movement.

"Guy? What -" Marian stammered, her mind still reeling from the magic she had seen, and now hurriedly attempting to formulate a way out of this situation - whatever it was.

She too was fearful for how much Guy had heard and seen, for both hers and Merlin's sake.

"I couldn't let you leave like that," Guy's hateful glare that had been directed at Merlin shifted to something softer as he gazed at the woman. "I know you are upset with me, but I - I needed to - explain."

"Explain?" Marian arched a single brow, quickly casting a glance at Merlin. "There is nothing to explain. I know what I saw."

Why wasn't he using the opportunity to run away?

"Please, just allow me to explain and make my apologies to you," Guy bowed his head but then craned it towards Merlin, his eyes darkening. "But after I bring this traitor to the castle!"

"Traitor?" Marian employed her practiced and perfected look of shocked and disbelieving ignorance. "Look at him. What makes him a traitor?"

"He has been seen with Hood," Guy grunted, "and did you not see what he just did? It's witchcraft!"

"Whatever you call it, it was also saving my life," Marian challenged.

"You don't even know him and you would defend him?" Guy barked.

"You don't even know him and you would arrest him!" Marian answered angrily.

"I do not need to know him," Gisbourne shook his head. "I have seen him with Hood with my own eyes. And now I have seen him using sorcery. The first, that is against the law of the sheriff. The second," he lowered his head and voice, "that is against the laws of the church."

Guy advanced on the younger man with his sword outstretched. Merlin wavered fearfully, but still didn't move to flee. It was pointless. He couldn't outrun the man or defend himself without his magic. But his defensive magic was always the strongest. Instinctual. It had caused destruction and death in Camelot. It had killed the thief without him even trying. And just now it had nearly killed Marian. No matter who this man was or what he had done, he didn't deserve death. Not to mention that Marian was still there. Even he targeted Guy, Marian could easily get caught in the crossfire.

"No tricks," Guy threatened, as he nudged Merlin with the tip of his blade, motioning for him to get on the horse. "You start anything, or if I even  _think_ you are, I will not hesitate."

"Guy," Marian implored.

"Stay out of this, Marian," Guy warned. "He's dangerous. You're lucky I followed you. You shouldn't be out here alone and unprotected. Come with me back to the castle."

Marian cast a wary glance at Merlin, looking to him for a sign of something, anything, to signal what she should do. He just gave a subtle shake of his head and she could practically hear his pleading thoughts for her not to try and risk helping him.

No wonder Robin liked him so much, she mused sadly. Merlin was just as selfless as him. But she still wouldn't stand by and allow Merlin to come to harm. Somehow, someway, she would do something before it was too late.


	19. Insurance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Caerleon is in Albion and is where Gwaine grew up and it is for its king, King Caerleon, that Gwaine's father died fighting...

Dungeons and Merlin were becoming friends. He had spent far more time than he had liked in the ones in Camelot. And now, here he sat, in the depths of yet another castle. It was okay though. He didn't mind. Down here, he couldn't hurt anyone.  _  
_

Guy had thrown him in the cell what felt like hours ago when he was finally graced with company. Gisbourne returned smugly, accompanying a shorter man. Merlin knew Guy was the one doing the accompanying and not the other way around with how Gisbourne seemed to be looking to the stranger for approval of his catch. So, whoever this man was, he was higher up on the Nottingham food chain than Guy.

It wasn't a difficult guess who his visitor was then.

"Do you know who I am?" The short man with the sinister smile approached his cage.

"The sheriff?" Merlin shrugged, not making any move to stand from his slouched position on the floor against the wall of the corner of the cell.

"Well, then," The sheriff rubbed his hands together, "you know who I am, and yet, I don't know who you are. As I am the sheriff and you are here in my lands, you can see how this is a problem." He paused, waiting. "This is the part where you tell me your name."

"Er, Lancelot." Merlin mumbled.

"Just 'Lancelot'?" The sheriff crossed his arms. "Did you just pop into existence in the middle of the forest and name yourself?"

"Uh, Lancelot, Lancelot Balinor, son of Gaius. From - Caerleon." Merlin lied quickly.

"There we go," The sheriff smiled, "now, was that so hard?" He paused and clapped his hands. "Now, Gisbourne, here, tells me you're one of Hood's men. Hmm?"

"I don't steal, if that's what you're getting at," Merlin spoke in a low voice. "I just help people who are sick and hurt. I didn't know that was against the law here."

"Oh, I don't care about any of that," the sheriff shook his head. "I barely care that you're friends with Hood. Just another outlaw. What interests me about you, my young friend, is what  _else_ Gisbourne told me about you."

Merlin stiffened.

"He tells me, you see," the sheriff stepped forward, "that he saw you using witchcraft. Magic." He lifted his hand when Merlin opened his mouth. "Oh, no, no, no. Don't try to deny it. I don't doubt him. And little miss Marian won't tell me anything, which just proves to me what you really did. Oh, don't worry. Don't worry. My views on magic are  _much_ different than what you might think. I'm not going to be unfair about this, after all. I am not an unreasonable man, Lancelot, no matter what Hood and the others may have told you. They don't know the real me." He patted his heart with a dramatic sympathetic smile.

"I know you," Merlin muttered darkly.

"Really?" The sheriff challenged, his smile crashed to an angry frown.

"I've seen many men, just like you," Merlin continued. "I know you and what you want from me and I won't do it. No matter what. I won't use my magic for your gain."

"Oh, no, I don't want you to use magic  _for_ me." The sheriff grinned devilishly. "I want you to use it  _with_ me. To work with us for a better Nottingham."

"The only way Nottingham could get better is if you were no longer sheriff," Merlin challenged bravely, but still quietly.

"You see?" He turned briefly to Gisbourne. "Hood spreads such nasty lies about me. He doesn't believe me. I can prove it to you. There is another, like you, with magic. They has been living right here, in the castle. Have I tied a noose around their neck," he mouthed the word 'no' and shook his head. "They work with me. Now, their position is kept secret, for now, as the less open minded public would not approve of such an alliance. But it's for  _them_ , really, that I do this. To help them. You could help too."

"And if I don't help?" Merlin questioned without a flicker of fear.

"Then think of yourself as insurance, in case things with my new magical friend go south."

"I won't let you use me against another person of magic," Merlin vowed.

"Who said anything about  _letting_ you?" The sheriff smirked. "I was thinking more of,  _forcing_ _,_ you."

"So you're working with a sorcerer," Merlin almost laughed. "You have no idea how dangerous -"

"Ah, enough! All your whining is giving me a headache. Guards, make our new  _guest_ feel at  _home_. He's going to be with us for awhile. We have other important guests to see to. Don't worry, Lancelot, you may just have company soon enough!"

Merlin didn't struggle as the guards seized him and hauled him to his feet. His mind was far too busy writhing for his limbs to do so as they used their fists to teach him a lesson. It wasn't a difficult leap to figure out the sherrif's plans and ways of forcing Merlin to do his biding. He had heard enough stories of how he tried to twist Robin's hand and knew his ways. The sheriff was going to use innocent people to make him use his magic. But he couldn't use it. Even more people could be hurt if he did - or worse.


	20. Secrets and Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Some more screen time for some other characters!

Allan nearly yelped aloud as his shirt was tugged and his entire body was yanked none too gently around the corner and behind a wall. He was already readying himself for a fight when he saw who it was who had seized him and relaxed.

"You've been quiet," Guy hissed. "I thought we had an arrangement. You were supposed to meet me this morning."

"Yeah, alright, alright, I know," Allan straightened his shirt. "I couldn't get away is all. We've been - busy."

"Busy?" Guy sneered. "What, looking for your lost little friend?"

"How do you know about that?" Allan's brow bent forward.

"Don't worry," Guy rolled his eyes, "he's safe - for now. But that's what I wanted to discuss with you."

Allan tensed as Gisbourne drew closer.

"You've been holding out on me," he snarled.

"What? No! No, I haven't." Allan shook his head. "I swear."

"I hope you're a much better liar to your friends, or they're going to see right through you," Guy growled. "Maybe I should just tell them. Hang you in front of the castle myself. Wait until Hood shows up and then tell him all about the little traitor in his own gang. See if he still saves you."

"I haven't kept anything from you," Allan was backing away now, "promise."

"You want me to believe that you didn't know about your friend's  _powers_?" Guy questioned both sarcastically and dangerously.

"Powers?" Allan almost chuckled. "What powers? What are you going on about?"

"Do  _not_  lie to me!" Guy was practically shouting through his whispers. "The sorcerer you've been hiding in the woods in your pathetic gang. I saw him use witchcraft with my own eyes."

Allan could see the truth in Gisbourne's eyes and heard it in his voice. Others, he would have doubted. But Guy wasn't one to construct such fables. And if his words were not truthful, his anger surely was. Allan wasn't ready when the man grabbed his shoulders and shoved him against the wall. He stared at Guy with rarely uncloaked fear in his gaze.

"Hmm," Guy scoffed, releasing the man. "You didn't know. Well then, it looks like there was more than one traitor in Hood's circle that he failed to see."

Without another word, turned and was gone.

Allan stood completely still for several moments. Whether it was from shock Gisbourne hadn't killed him, that the sheriff had Merlin, or that Merlin apparently had some sort of magic, even he wasn't sure.

Merlin couldn't be practicing witchcraft. They would've noticed. Wouldn't they?

He did often go off on his own. But no.

He had his quirks, that was for certain, but it wasn't possible.

Was it?

Allan had always thought such things were of evil nature. Wicked. Against God.

And yet Allan could not bring himself to count Merlin as any of those things. The man had showed nothing but kindness and gentleness. He was even against violence. And then there was what he knew about Allan. Could that be the magic? Is that he knew?

Even so, Merlin had not turned him over to Robin yet. He had given Allan the chance to do it himself.

He didn't come off as angry or hateful when he confronted Allan either. He had seemed almost, sad.

And now that kind and gentle and sad man was probably sitting in the castle dungeons, awaiting execution. He would be hanged, just for being in Robin's company, even if he didn't participate in any of the thievery. But if Guy and the sheriff believed him to be practicing witchcraft? He would be put to death for certain. Maybe drowning by the chair. Would he be tested as a witch or tried as a traitor? Both marks against him would ensure his death, no matter which method was used to carry it out.

Could he let Merlin be put to death? His friend? The physician who had saved Djaq, Much and Will? The man who had already been through obvious suffering?

If he told Robin and the others, how would he explain how he gained such knowledge? Another lie? Would this one suffice? Or in saving Merlin, would he be condemning himself?

And Merlin was apparently a witch. Sorcerer. Whatever you called it. And he had hid this from them. Who was Merlin to challenge Allan on living a lie?

Is that how Merlin had actually known about Allan's secret? Because he had lived with a much larger one his whole life?

Merlin's secret had never endangered any of them. Merlin's second life wasn't bred from selfish motives. Not once had he showed any sign of himself being a danger to his friends. Could Allan say the same?

_"Suit yourself," Allan shrugged, "but you don't know what you're missing."_

_"Yes I do," Merlin replied seriously, causing Allan to pause. "Fighting and killing and death. Watching people you care about die."_

_"You want me to tell you something about me? About my life?" Merlin stepped forward. "I watched people, _good_ people, do bad things. Terrible things. Confused and hurting and thinking that they were all alone. Some of them thought they were doing good. I've seen traitors and spies and I know when people are lying. Because I've seen them. Because  _I've_ had to live a lie. I had to lie and hide, because if I didn't, people would get hurt. I couldn't tell anyone what I really was. I had to look my best friends in the eyes and tell them lie after lie to protect myself and them. I hated  _every_ second of it, but  _I_ didn't have a choice.  _You_ do. What are you lying to your friends for? To protect them? How is money in your pocket helping them, or anyone besides you? I'm assuming that's what you're getting from whatever deal you've made."_

_"I'm trying to _help_ you!" Merlin shouted back. "To help them, your friends. The people who you are going to get hurt or killed if you don't stop."_

_"I won't tell Robin," Merlin swallowed. "Not yet. Because I still think are good people left in the world. And I really think you can be one of them."_

Merlin barely knew Allan and yet the physician's assistant had so much faith in the simple peasant and thief.

It was time Allan started having faith in himself.

He had made a mistake. And even if it meant condemning himself, he would fix this. He would change.

With a nod to no one but himself, Allan turned and hurried to find Robin.

* * *

She had to find Robin. Neither of her own plans were working. Merlin wouldn't allow her to help him. If Guy wouldn't see reason, there was no other way. She had already tried persuading and then pleading with both men to no avail.

_"You saved my life," she whispered as she approached the cell._

_Merlin visibly stiffened and neglected to look up at her._

_"How did you get past the guards?" Was instead his reply._

_"Don't worry about me," Marian peered behind the bars. "You look terrible. Are you alright?"_

_Merlin winced at the mention of his aches that he had been trying to forget. They had sure made him feel at home alright._

_"I saw what you did," she whispered. "At first, I tried to deny it. Couldn't explain it. But I saw it with my own eyes."_

_Again, she saw Merlin tense._

_"You need to be afraid of me," Marian said lightly. "I told the sheriff I saw nothing. I had hoped he would not believe Guy."_

_"Why?" Merlin's voice cracked. "Why didn't you say anything?"_

_"Because you are my friend," Marian smiled warmly, even if he wasn't looking at her to see it. "Witchcraft or not. You at least deserve to be able to offer your friends an explanation."  
_

_"It's not witchcraft," Merlin mumbled. "It's magic."_

_"Isn't that the same?"_

_"No," Merlin still wouldn't look at her. "I was born with it. It - it's not a choice."_

_"I - I didn't know -"_

_"Most people don't," Merlin whispered faintly._

_"You are a good man, Merlin," Marian spoke firmly. "Like Robin."_

_"You love him," Merlin spoke in a different voice than before._

_"I - I'm sorry?" Marian was honestly taken by surprise at the turn of the conversation._

_"You love him," Merlin repeated, a smile on his voice. "And he loves you." Merlin paused. "Don't let what his happening now, keep you apart. You don't know how lucky you are, or how long you have." Freya's face smiled softly at him in his memories._

_"It's not that simple," Marian shook her head._

_"It's not supposed to be simple," Merlin answered, his mind wandering to Gwen and Arthur. "My first friend in Camelot, she was incredible. The kindest person I've ever met. But she was a servant, like me. She fell in love with our prince. And he loved her too. But she wasn't a princess or a noble, so they feared it would never work. But I could see it in their eyes. Their love. They shouldn't have had to be apart. And neither should you and Robin."_

_And if she hadn't thought so before, that right there just proved how good of a man Merlin truly was. He was sitting there, bloody and beaten, awaiting what would probably soon be his execution, and giving_  her _advice. From what she had seen, and what Robin told her, this was just the sort of man Merlin was. And any man like that, magic or not, was needed in the world._

_"I'm going to get you out of here," Marina pledged._

_"No, please."_

_And just like that, he was finally looking at her, his kind and weary eyes pleading._

_"I don't want anyone else getting hurt because of me." His voice was raw with emotion and pain._

_"And I don't want you getting put to death," she challenged._

_"Locked up down here, or dead," Merlin sighed, "I'm not a danger to anyone. Please."_

_"You want - to die?"_

_"I don't want to hurt anyone else," he pleaded._

Hurt anyone else?  _Marian thought to herself._

 _Before he had said that he didn't desire anyone to get hurt_ because  _of him. Now his words suggested that he had hurt others with his own hands. Or maybe his powers. There was so much sorrow and guilt and fear in his voice that it made Marian want to weep for her hurting friend. No one should have to suffer and endure so much._

_"I'll tell Robin," she promised. "I will go to him and he will have a plan. We will not give up on you, Merlin."_

_"Please, don't -"_

_Voices suddenly sounded nearby and Marian snapped her head toward the door._

_"Someone is coming," she whispered, "I must go. I will go to Robin. It will be okay, Merlin."_

_She offered Merlin no time to protest as she slipped away from his cell and out of the dungeon._

_She was already making her way to exit the castle when Guy crossed her path._

_"Sir Guy, please, may I speak with you concerning the man you took prisoner today?"_

_"There is nothing to discuss," Guy shook his head. "He is a traitor who practices witchcraft."_

_"He saved my life!" Marian implored as she followed Gisbourne hastily down the hall. "Should that not count for anything?"_

_She failed to see the raven haired woman hiding in the shadows._

_"The world is not as you would have it, Marian," Guy grunted. "There is death and war and sometimes people need to be punished for their actions. One good deed doesn't change that. You speak of a child's world."_

_"No, I speak of a world where people are treated fairly. Where innocent men aren't condemned to death. Where people can trust one another."_

_She knew what she was doing, throwing that last comment at him like hot coals. Marian never enjoyed manipulating anyone, but she still knew what buttons to push._

_"Marian, I understand you must be, upset, about what you saw earlier -"_

_"What I_ saw  _earlier, was the man who continues to claim to care for me and says he wishes to win my affections, kissing another woman as if I do not exist. You give me trinkets and empty promises and when I do not return the favor in the way you wish, you turn to another to satisfy your desires."_

_"It was a mistake," Guy vowed._

_"There seems to be a lot of those happening today," Marian clipped and then spun on her heel, hurrying off in the opposite direction, praying that this time, he wouldn't go after her._

_Guy didn't follow her._

_But someone else did._


	21. Together

Marian urged her horse faster. She had to tell Robin, someone, anyone. They had to save Merlin. And then there was the other message she had yet to deliver. The mysterious stranger. The plot to kill the king. There was too much happening at once.

She was so lost in her thoughts and fears that she nearly didn't see the figure on the path until it was too late. Her horse reared back, throwing Marian from the animal. She tumbled to the dirt and quickly scrambled to her feet, already on the defensive. She searched the road for the figure but found no one.

That was, until she spun around.

"You?" Marian gasped.

"I'm growing tired of your interference," the black haired harlot hissed. "And the  _whining._ Please. You're pathetic."

"I'm sorry?" Marian tried not to sound as shocked as she felt.

"Feeding him all those lies. I've been watching the two of you for some time now. Oh, and he does so  _adore_ you. But, that's going to end now. He's mine to play with. You're just getting in the way. Besides, it's not like you actually liked him anyway. I'm doing you a favor, really."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Marian straightened, standing as tall and brave as she could under the woman's icy glare.

"Oh, come now," she cackled. "You may be able to lie to the sheriff and that idiot, Guy. But I see  _right through_ you. I was a traitor in my own kingdom for a long time. Believe me, I know. Off to warn your friends? Sorry, but I'm quite afraid that you won't be seeing them again, ever."

Only the trees heard Marian scream.

* * *

Allan tore through the trees as he raced back to his friends. The others would be back by now. Nightfall was approaching and they wouldn't risk searching for Merlin after dark.

When he finally reached their camp, he burst through the trees and nearly fell forward panting.

"Allan?" Djaq looked up from her seat by Will's side.

"What is it?" Robin stepped forward.

"The sheriff," Allan swallowed air greedily in between words, "the sheriff has Merlin."

There was a collective, crashing silence.

"Well, we have to get him back," Djaq stood.

"Agreed," John grunted fervently.

"Tonight?" Much questioned.

"Right now," Djaq nodded.

"Hold on," Robin held up his hands, "we need a plan first."

"Robin," Much implored.

"We'll go tonight, Much," Robin sighed, "we just need to think first."

"Wait," Allan coughed.

"Someone needs to stay with Will," Robin continued.

"I'll be fine," Will argued, "this is Merlin. You should have as many of us as you can."

"I won't leave you here alone," Robin shook his head. "What if something happens?"

"Guys," Allan panted.

"You don't need to leave me here at all," Will started to sit up slowly. "I'm healing quickly. Whatever Merlin did, it's working. Fast."

"You're still injured," Robin countered.

"There isn't time for arguing," John cut in. "We need to go,  _now_."

"John is right," Djaq nodded, frowning down at Will. "I am sorry, but I won't watch you get hurt again. We don't have time to fight. We need a plan."

"Alright -"

"Merlin uses witchcraft!"

The silence that followed Allan's sudden shout was even more punctuated than the one before.

"What?" Much was almost laughing.

"Allan?" Robin pressed.

"Merlin, well, I don't know for  _sure_ ," Allan stuttered, "but I was told, that Merlin practices witchcraft. He's a witch."

"There is no such thing!" Robin was smiling as he spoke. "It's superstition!"

"Who told you this?" Djaq asked seriously, stepping toward Allan.

"Uh, well, you see, that's the tricky part." Allan swallowed.

" .You?" Djaq repeated sternly.

"Uh, it was," Allan's eyes darted across the faces of his friends, "it was, Gisborne."

"Gisborne?" Djaq staggered back. "Did you overhear this or did he tell you himself?"

"He, he told me," Allan admitted, bowing his head.

"Why would he tell you?" Much shook his head in confusion.

"What were  _you_ doing talking to  _Gisborne_?" Little John nearly growled.

All eyes were on Allan now.

"Robin," Allan addressed their leader with raw emotions coating his throat and words, "you were wondering why we kept getting tricked. The decoys. It - it was me."

"What?" Robin moved forward.

"Gisborne, he took me. Tortured me. Said he'd kill me if I didn't help him. He - he paid me for information. I am so sorry. I never gave him anything that would hurt any of you! I swear! I didn't tell him about Marian or about our camp or anything. Just little stuff. To keep myself alive - and get the money. Today he cornered me. Said I wasn't giving him enough, that I'd been holding out. I thought he meant about where we live or something. Then he started going on about Merlin. Guy said he saw him use witchcraft. He thought we knew." He paused, wiping what suspiciously looked like a single tear from the corner of his eye. "I won't do it anymore. Ever. I don't care if he kills me. I don't care if you throw me out of the gang. I  _had_ to tell you. To save Merlin. To - to come clean. I was stupid and selfish and I am so, so sorry, Robin. All of you. I'm sorry."

No one spoke for a few weighted moments.

"You little -" John didn't finish his sentence as he lunged for Allan, gripping him by his shirt and thrusting him against a tree. "This whole time! You've been a spy! A traitor."

"We  _trusted_ you," Much shook his head angrily.

"I know, I know," Allan winced, closing his eyes, readying himself for whatever physical punishment Little John was about to deliver. "Go ahead."

"Put him down," Robin sighed, surprising all of them.

"But Robin!" John protested.

"Let him go, John," Robin repeated more firmly. "Now."

John reluctantly obeyed, letting Allan drop to the ground.

"We don't have time for this," Robin shook his head. "I'll deal with you later," he pointed at Allan. "Right now, we need to get Merlin."

There was an uneasy pause where a few of the members traded glances.

"What?" Robin questioned suspiciously. "What is it?"

"Witchcraft, Robin," John whispered.

"You can't believe what Gisborne says he saw!" Robin threw his head back.

"Now I'm not saying we shouldn't go after him," Much interjected, "because he's Merlin. No matter what he practices, or doesn't practice. But he  _did_ have secrets."

"Everyone has secrets, Much," Robin shook his head.

"But, witchcraft?" Much questioned.

"It's not witchcraft," Djaq suddenly stated.

"Thank you," Robin nodded at her.

"It's magic."

Robin's grateful gaze shifted into something far more curious.

"What are you talking about, Djaq?" Robin questioned.

"You know something," Will said softly, "about Merlin."

"Is everyone in this gang keeping secrets from me?" Robin shouted, practically to the skies.

"Be angry with me if you want," Djaq continued, "but do not be mad at Merlin. Do not abandon him now, after everything he has done for us."

"What do you know?" Will pressed kindly.

"When we first met Merlin, I found something in his possessions. A book. Of potions and spells and creatures. Of magic. It isn't the witchcraft you imagine or know of. It's magic."

"How is that different?" John questioned.

"Merlin was  _born_ with his magic. It is a part of him, as much as I was born a woman and you a man. It is who he is. He isn't a witch. He's a sorcerer. And a very powerful one too."

"Then how come we've never seen him use magic?" Much crossed his arms.

"You have," Djaq smiled softly. "Merlin used his magic to save Will." At this, she looked over at Will, who was staring back at her in shock. "Even then, I had to convince him to do so. He did not want to let Will die, but he was terrified of using his magic. Something happened to him. Something happened with his magic. He will not tell me. Whatever it was, he blames himself, and his magic. He told me he hadn't used it since. He was scared of hurting someone. Of losing his friends. So, yes, Robin, he lied to you. To all of you. But it was to protect you. And, I think, to protect himself. He didn't want to hurt any of you, but I also think we didn't want to see your faces when you found out. The faces you are making now."

Silence settled over them as her speech slowly sunk into their minds and hearts.

"He said," Will began, "that, where he came from, people were killed, for being different. Maybe that is what it meant. Maybe that is why he left."

"I don't believe it," Much shook his head. " _Merlin_ having  _magic._ I can't."

"Believe it, Much," Djaq nodded.

"But it doesn't make any sense!" Much threw his hands up. "Magic  _can't_ be real. It just can't."

"Says who?" Djaq challenged.

"It's not," Much stammered, "not, not  _Christian._ "

"And who is to say that he was not granted this gifts by Allah?" Djaq pushed. "I saw it myself when he healed Will. His eyes -  _changed_. It was beautiful."

"Beautiful?" John huffed. "It's the devil."

"Are you calling Merlin the devil?" Djaq asked angrily.

"Not Merlin," John shook his head, "the magic."

"The magic and Merlin are one," Djaq repeated. "If you call his magic the devil, than you are calling Merlin the devil. He has done  _nothing_ but help us since we met him! He was being beaten by those thieves! He didn't even use magic to defend himself! He was taken by Gisborne. He could have gotten away using his powers, but he didn't. Because, even at the price of his own safety, his own  _life_ , he will not risk harming others. No matter who they are. Merlin is a good man. And he needs our help. If the rest of you wish to only stay here, sitting in your fear and false beliefs, then fine. I will go after him myself."

"Me too," Allan spoke up for the first time since he had made his confession. "I know none of you trust me anymore and I know I'm out of the gang now, but it doesn't matter. Merlin tried to talk to me. To help me, after everything I said about him. Now I'm going to help him."

"No, you're not.

All eyes snapped to Robin, who had spoken though his head had been bowed. Slowly, he lifted it to meet each of their gazes.

"You're not," he repeated. " _We_ are. All of us. Together."


	22. An Old Friend

The gang was just beginning to form a plan of freeing Merlin when a slight rustling of the trees drew their attention. Most others would have probably never noticed such a subtle sound. But the outlaws did.

They ceased their speech and scanned their surroundings with sharp eyes and perked ears.

Robin readied his bow while the others reached for their blades.

"Show yourself," Robin shouted into the night. "If you mean us no trouble, then we mean the same to you."

"Oh, I always mean trouble," came a rough, yet impish, voice from behind a tree. "Or, at least, I usually end up causing it."

The man stepped casually from the shadows as he spoke, swinging a sword playfully. He had a roguish appearance, accentuated by his ragged clothing and unkempt, shoulder length hair. Robin would have guessed his as a thief or an outlaw, or both. And yet there was something gentle in his eyes and kind in his smile.

"Don't come any closer," John warned, brandishing his stick.

"Yeah, put the sword down, mate," Allan added.

"It seems unfair that you all would get to keep your weapons, while you would have me relinquish mine." He shrugged.

"We already outnumber you," Robin warned.

"I've been outnumbered by a lot more, and won with a lot less that this," he gestured with the sword. "But, if you insist." With that, the stranger struck the blade into the dirt, the sword remaining in the ground as he backed away. "Satisfied?"

"Who are you?" Robin questioned, lowering his bow. "What are you doing here?"

"And how did you find us?" Much pointed out.

"What I'm doing here, is looking for a friend," the man began. "And on finding you, it wasn't that hard really. I wasn't actually looking for  _you._ I was following someone else's trail. That lead me here. And apparently to you all."

"Who are you looking for?" Robin inquired curiously.

"My friend," the man nodded. "My best friend, in fact. Seems you all might know him seeing as I overheard you talking about him just now."

"He was spying on us!" Much jabbed an accusing finger at the man.

"Now that's a bit harsh," the stranger raised his hands. "Like I told you, I was looking for my friend. Isn't my fault his trail let me to you, now is it?"

"Who is your friend?" Robin asked again. "What is his name?"

"You already know him," the man grinned. "His name, is Merlin."

"Merlin?" Djaq came forward. "You are a friend of Merlin's?"

"Well, I used to be," he nodded. "Like to think I still am. Been looking for him for months now. Heard word of a scrawny physician in the villages 'round here. New face. Stranger. Not that scrawny didn't tip me off," he smiled. "Finally thought I found him." His smile faltered and then turned serious. "And then I found this."

The man tossed a brown satchel into Robin's arms.

"That is Merlin's," Djaq seized the bag.

"I know Merlin," the man started. "He wouldn't leave that just anywhere."

"He must have dropped it when they took him," Will frowned.

"That's what I was afraid to hear," the stranger sighed. "Same old Merlin. Can't help himself but to get into trouble."

"I thought you were the one that got into trouble," Allan clarified.

"I  _like_ trouble," he confirmed. "But not when it involves Merlin."

"Agreed," Robin nodded. "Merlin is our friend too. If you can help us, we would gladly accept it. But we need to know you are being truthful in your claims. There have been enough lies here," he glanced from Allan to Djaq. "Can you prove you are to Merlin what you say you are?"

"I have no physical proof if that is what you are looking for," the man shook his head. "I can tell you that I met Merlin some years ago and that he became my first friend. I can tell you that I have spent months searching forests and villages for him. And I can tell you that I have not come all this way to stand aside and let something happen to him."

He spoke with such conviction that it almost shook Robin. He was almost perplexed at how someone could be so seeming so jovial and carefree, to so serious and burdened.

"I trust you on your word, then," Robin nodded. "I am Robin, this is Djaq, Will, John, Much, and - Allan." His pause before Allan's name was barely detectable, but definitely not missed by said man. "You should know now, before you go with us, that we are outlaws in these lands."

"Trust Merlin to get himself mixed up with a bunch of outlaws," the man chuckled. "Well, you don't seem like the bandit type to me. And you're not druids."

"Druids?" Much inquired.

"The Druid people are outlawed where I come from," he explained, "for their magic."

At the word, each of the others' features faltered, their backs stiffening.

"Well then," the stranger grunted, "I'd say judging by your faces that you know about Merlin's magic too."

If anyone else had been in the forest, they probably would have heard the collective jaws unhinging.

"Do, do you have - magic - too?" Much asked, just a touch anxiously.

"Ha, me," the man let out a hearty laugh. "The only magic I posses is with a sword. Merlin is the sorcerer. But more than that, he's a good friend. A good man. And I intend to get him back." He turned to Robin and quirked a single brow. "You were saying you had a plan?"

"Yes," Robin nodded. "We are not unfamiliar with breaking into the castle dungeons."

"Why am I not surprised?" The man smirked.

"You never told us your name," Djaq pointed out.

The man swept his gaze across the group with a smile before he answered.

"Gwaine."


	23. Servant to a Prince

_Gwaine._

Robin knew that name. He recognized it as one of the mumbled and pain words that would slip from Merlin's mouth during his nightmares. Whenever he had said it, it always was filled with so much sorrow. He needed to know what had happened.

"Why did Merlin leave?" Robin asked suddenly. "What happened in Camelot?"

"He never told you?" Gwaine sighed. "Well, that's Merlin for you. Thinks he's got to take the whole word on his shoulders by himself. Never even told me about his magic."

"Then how did you find out?" Much questioned.

"We don't have time for this," Djaq shook her head. "Merlin need us."

"When did you find Merlin's bag?" Robin turned to Gwaine.

"I can't be certain," Gwaine shrugged, "but a few hours before the sun fell. I tried to track him, but to be honest, I think I just ended up getting lost and wandering the forest until I heard you."

"If the sheriff had Merlin at least before the end of the day then, if not longer," Robin surmised, "why did he not make it known? He would want to flaunt the capture of one of our gang, surely, but then to add that his prisoner practices magic? It would certainly help him to turn the people against us if they think we were harboring someone who practices witchcraft. So why did he not make an announcement? He wouldn't wait. The sheriff isn't a patient man. If he knows Merlin has magic, he might want to try to use him for his own gains. He's done it before, more than once. Djaq, he tried to have you use your knowledge of alchemy. He wouldn't pass up the opportunity to have someone with Merlin's abilities. He will keep him."

"You mean he will threaten and torture him," Djaq corrected darkly.

"It is late," Robin sighed, "none of us have gained much rest these past nights with what happened to Will and then looking for Merlin. If the sheriff does believe Merlin to have magic, then he will be far more heavily guarded. We will all need our rest and strength if we are going to succeed. And we need the truth. We need to know what happened. If Merlin's dreams and what happened to him in the forest the other day were not enough, being locked in the dungeons isn't going to help. Merlin may very well not  _be_ Merlin when we find him."

"What do you mean?" Gwaine was both anxious and angry. "What happened to him in the forest? What dreams?"

"Every night since he has been with us," Robin explained, "he has suffered from terrible dreams. I have seen it myself. He will share with any of us what they are about. And then, some days back, he was alone in the forest. We cannot tell you for certain what happened, as he will not speak of it. He didn't come back and when we went looking for him, we found him in a state I have only seen in soldiers. It appeared as though he had interfered to help a woman who was being robbed by a thief. This same bandit, who had once before hurt Merlin. They fought, that much was obvious. Somehow, he woman was knocked unconscious and the thief was stabbed with his own dagger. We found Merlin on the side of the road."

"No matter what we did," Djaq continued, "we could not wake him. It was as if he was trapped inside his own mind. Inside memories."

"Which is why we need to know everything we can," Robin finished.

"Gaius warned me that this could happen," Gwaine shook his head.

"Gaius?" Allan questioned.

"Merlin's guardian," Gwaine answered.

"The physician," Djaq guessed.

"Yes, the court physician," Gwaine nodded.

"Wait,  _court_ physician?" Much stepped forward. "Merlin said he was a servant. He wasn't a service to someone in court, was he?"

Gwaine smirked, a secret on his lips.

"I'd say so," the man smiled. "He served under the prince. Prince Arthur, who is now King of Camelot."

Again, there was a collection of jaws hitting the dirt.

"Looks like there is quite a lot Merlin did not tell us," Robin sighed.

"Don't be upset with him," Gwaine protested. "It's his way. Always trying to protect everyone. Trying to avoid and hide his own problems and pain."

"Well, I would rather let Merlin tell us himself," Robin began, "but we sadly don't have that option. Please, tell us what you can."

And so he did.

Perhaps Robin didn't know exactly what he was asking for, because between all that needed to be shared, and Gwaine's never tired tongue, they were granted very little of the rest he had proclaimed they needed.

Gwaine started as far back as he was able, explaining Merlin's position in the castle and how he had obtained it. He gave a brave and detailed description of his first meeting of Merlin and the prince and his heroic act in the tavern that day. He recounted Camelot's history with magic and the purge and told of Morgana's betrayal. Until finally, he came to it.

The night Merlin fled.

The night everything in Camelot changed.


	24. The Night Everything Changed

_Gwaine knew all to well what it was like to lose a father. He and Arthur did not posses the bond that Gwaine held with Merlin, but he still considered the prince a friend._

_This was why he had made the decision to offer the man a visit, and pay prince, and king, a visit. Uther wasn't exactly someone Gwaine liked or supported, but this wasn't about him, or Gwaine. He knew the son would be dutifully at his fading father's side and headed with a heavy head and heart to the king's chambers._

_He was almost to the door when he heard the shouting._

_"You've killed him!"_

_It was Arthur's voice behind the rage filled words._

_"No!"_

_"You'll die for what you've done!"_

_There was a string of foreign words Gwaine did not understand then and a small crash. He didn't need to know the translation to recognize the language._

_Whoever had cast the spell was now fleeing the room and Gwaine quickly ducked behind a corner. It was only when the stranger was about to cross his path did Gwaine step out of the shadows and reveal himself, and his sword, to the sorcerer._

_"Do_ not  _move," Gwaine warned._

_"You must let me pass," The old man demanded in his coarse voice._

_"I must?" Gwaine laughed._

_"I do not want to hurt you" the elderly wizard warned._

_"Was that a threat?"_

_Gwaine moved forward only slightly, twisting the blade and sliding it up from the man's chest to his neck. He imagined he could handle the rickety old man quite fine on his own but knew there was more involved. Arthur hadn't emerged. Both the king and prince's lives could've been in danger. Without hesitating, Gwaine shouted over his shoulder for guards. He had barely finished the single word when he felt a strange and strong invisible force thrusting him backward. He hit the wall and landed on the edge of the top of a staircase. He tried to find purchase as his feet slipped from underneath him. His body crashed backward done the stone stairwell and he knew then only blackness._

_Gwaine was pretty positive it wasn't the prince's birthday again. At least, he hoped he hadn't been unconscious that long. The drumming had to be coming from something other than celebratory music. But what?_

_He tried to move and the banging burst in volume._

_Oh, right, he winced. The painful pounding was coming from inside his own head. Brilliant._

_And then, as though he had been struck against the skull again, everything came crashing back to him. The sorcerer's face sprang into his mind and the knight once more made an attempt to sit up._

_"Careful," a calm, yet commanding voice managed to sneak in between banging beats. "Slowly."_

_Slowly, right. Gwaine internally huffed. He didn't like slow. Finally, as the drums that had been angered by his movements slightly subdued, Gwaine settled for dragging his heavy eyelids open._

_He was granted another old face, but not the sorcerer's._

_"Gaius?" Gwaine grunted._

_"Don't try to move much yet," the physician instructed in way of greeting. "You've taken a serious blow to the head."_

_"The sorcerer -" Gwaine ground out and tried to push himself up, only being rewarded with another stinging song._

_"Is gone," Gaius informed him, a touch something sorrowful in his voice._

_"I heard Arthur shout," Gwaine blinked blearily. "What happened? Is he alright? The king as well?"_

_"I'm afraid," Gaius took in a long breath, "the king is dead."_

_"And the sorcerer killed him?" Gwaine surmised._

_"That is what Arthur believes, yes," Gauis answered, standing and walking over to a table of herbs and vials._

_"You talk as though you believe different," Gwaine said suspiciously._

_Gaius was silent and the knight had his answer._

_Lying on the bed in the physician's chambers, Gwaine tried to let his eyes scan his surroundings without moving his head much. He could see darkness bleeding in through the small window._

_"Merlin asleep?" Gwaine's eyes found the familiar door that led to his best friend's room._

_At this, Gaius was not only silent, but he stiffened._

_"Gaius?"_

_The man put down whatever he was mixing and steadied himself against the table._

_"Merlin is gone."_

_"Gone?" Gwaine didn't care about the pain this time as he propped himself up. "What do you mean?"_

_Gaius was very careful with his words when he next spoke._

_"Arthur saw the sorcerer take a potion that made his appear to look like Merlin," he began. "When the prince confronted him, the sorcerer would not tell him where Merlin was. Then he, he got away. Arthur came here soon after, looking for Merlin. He had the guards bring you to me as well. Arthur told me what had happened then. I tended to your wounds and went to the king's chambers to make an official examination. He was dead. When Arthur didn't find Merlin here, he had guards search the castle. They're searching the city now, but Arthur -"_

_"What?" Gwaine prompted after the man's speech suddenly ceased._

_"Arthur is convinced that Merlin, is dead. He believe the sorcerer killed Merlin, just as he believes he killed Uther."_

_Gwaine sat there silent for some staggering seconds. It had to be his head wound. What he was hearing could not be true. Merlin could not be dead._

_Merlin._

_His first friend._

_His best friend._

_Merlin._

_The kindest, most selfless person the knight had ever known._

_Dead._


	25. Friends

_"That's it?" Gwaine hollered as the young new king turned his back to him. "You're done? You're just going to give up on Merlin like this?"_

_"We've been searching for weeks," Arthur spun around to face his knight._

_"No," Gwaine shook his head, "_ we've  _been searching. Not you. You haven't gone out once to help."_

_"I am the king now," Arthur straightened. "I have responsibilities. Duties."_

_"You have a duty to Merlin," Gwaine argued. "He's your friend."_

_"He was my servant," Arthur lowered his head."_

_"Don't lie to me, Arthur," Gwaine huffed. "You would've given your life for him, and he would've done the same for you. And now, what -"_

_"I can't keep sending men out -"_

_"Oh, come on Arthur!" Gwaine scoffed. "It isn't like you don't have a few knights to spare."_

_"I've made my decision and I won't hear any more about this," Arthur snapped._

_"Oh, you'll hear plenty more about this from me," Gwaine lifted his brow._

_"That was an order," Arthur ground out. "You are a knight and I am your king. You are bound to obey me."_

_"The only people I'm bound to are my friends," Gwaine shook his head. "And I guess that no longer includes you."_

_"What are you saying?" Arthur challenged._

_"I'm saying," Gwaine nodded, "that I'm going to continue to look for my friend. If that means that I am no longer a knight of Camelot, well then, so be it. Never was fond of playing solders anyway."_

_"If you leave," Arthur warned, "do not return. Not to the castle. Not to Camelot. Ever again."_

_Gwaine gave a sad smile and almost chuckled emptily._

_"Fine by me."_

_And with no more exchanged between the two men, the former knight turned and left the king._

* * *

_"You shouldn't go on your own," Elyan sighed. "I can come with you."_

_"Nah," Gwaine shrugged. "I've done fine on my own before. Besides, you need to stay here, look after your sister."_

_"Merlin was a friend to all of us," Elyan offered the man his hand, "find him. And keep yourself out of trouble."_

_"Eh, you know me." Gwaine laughed. "Where would the fun be then?"_

_"Then at least keep yourself alive," Elyan chuckled and then turned serious, "for Merlin's sake. For all our sakes."_

_"Are you sure you do not wish someone to join you?" Percival asked._

_"Arthur needs you here," Gwaine nodded. "He might be a royal arse but he's a good man. Merlin showed me that. I know what it's like to lose a father. What it does to you. How it changes you. Arthur lost his father and his best friend in one night. Who knows what he'll do now. I want to find Merlin because he's my friend. But I also believe that Arthur needs him. Merlin made me a better man. And I think he does the same for Arthur."_

_"For all the times we tease him," Elyan shook his head, "what I wouldn't give to see Merlin's face, hearing you say Camelot needs him."_

_"Never does give himself any credit, does he?" Gwaine grinned. "I think he's secretly saved our princess' life a time or two."_

_"That's Queen now," Elyan laughed._

_They were still chuckling when the door opened and Leon and Gwen stepped inside._

_"Leon's just told me," Gwen stepped forward, her eyes sweeping over Gwaine. "Is it true?"_

_"I'm not giving up on Merlin," Gwaine gave a bow of his head._

_"Then I am glad," Gwen smiled softly. "Sad to see you leave, but glad to know that someone will still be looking for him. Bring him back safe. Both of you."_

_Gwaine kissed Gwen's hand and offered her a sincere, yet somber, smile._

_"I will," he vowed. "You keep that king in line."_

_"I will do my best," Gwen giggled._

_Gwaine turned and was met with a hand upon his shoulder and Leon's serious stare. The shared a brief nod and that was all that needed in way of goodbye, good luck and so much more._

_The former knight slung his pack over his shoulder and headed for the door, only pausing and turning back when he was in the threshold. He gave a grin and a wave to them all before stepped backward into the hall and leaving them behind. Possibly forever._

_Gwaine was never good with goodbyes. He hadn't ever truly been close enough to anyone to offer any when I decided to up and leave a town, or when the town decided to kick him out. This departure was different. He had friends to miss this time around. Friends to want to see again, to come back to._

_But he had his best friend to find._

_There was only one more goodbye he had to take care of before he kicked Camelot's dirt from his shoes._

_He had never been close with the man, but he still felt the physician deserved to know. Maybe offer him a bit of hope. It was funny really. A few years back and Gwaine would have scoffed at the idea of hope. Underneath his jokes and arrogance, he had been bitter and saw very little in the world to hold hope for. But Merlin had changed all that. Merlin made him a better man. A happier and more hopeful man._

_He knew his friend had viewed the old man as far more than a mere mentor. They possessed the bond of father and son without the blood between them. Gwaine had actually been surprised that the physician hadn't shown more outward concern over his assistant's disappearance. He wondered if the two were more alike than they imagined. Merlin was so often hiding his own problems and pain._

_He knocked on the familiar door and entered without waiting for reply._

_The old man was standing in front of what Gwaine would guess was a bowl of complicated potion - or soup. Gaius turned at the sound of the door and offered Gwaine a curious look, his wise eyes not only taking in the younger man's bag, but also his face._

_"You know," he began with a sigh and a smile, "I'd try to convince you to reconsider, but no one ever seems to listen to me."_

_"I'm not just leaving to leave," Gwaine shook his head. "I'm going to find him."_

_Gaius' features faltered._

_"You can't believe he is dead," Gwaine stepped forward. "Not you. You know Merlin better than any of us. He is stronger and smarter than he seems. He always somehow survives. I believe in Merlin."_

_"You are a good man, Gwaine," Gaius said earnestly._

_"I owe that to Merlin," Gwaine protested. "He taught me a lot."_

_"As he did me," Gaius nodded._

_"Weren't you supposed to be_ his  _mentor?" Gwaine chuckled._

_"Sometimes I think that boy taught me just as much, if not more, than I taught him." Gaius shook his head. "Where will you start?"_

_"Knights have already searched most of the surround forest and villages," Gwaine sighed. "Figure I'll start from the beginning. Except this time it won't be a knight asking questions and poking around. Just another tavern loving commoner. People's tongues get a little dry when anyone_ official  _starts asking questions. I know. Mine certainly does. I might just get word of something. If I don't, well then, I'll spread out from there. Village to village."_

_"On your own," Gaius shook his head, "that could take years."_

_"Then so be it," Gwaine shrugged. "Merlin is certainly worth it. Besides, it's better than sticking around here without him."_

_"Gwaine, no one knows where the sorcerer went or where he came from," Gaius spoke carefully. "Merlin could be anywhere in Albion, or even further beyond our borders."_

_"Then I guess I am at the start of quite an interesting adventure," Gwaine grinned._

_"There is nothing I can say to convince you to stay then," Gaius moved toward him._

_"Unless you tell me Merlin's back behind that door," he pointed sadly to Merlin's old room, "then, no."_

_"There is,_ something _, I can say," Gaius faced away from the younger man as his words slid out slowly._

_"What is it?" Gwaine turned a curious gaze to the physician._

_"There is something I told myself I would never reveal to anyone," Gaius began, as though he was finding speech difficult somehow. "Something I told Merlin never to tell a soul. I feel that I am now going back on everything I ever taught him. But I fear, it is the only way to save him. Even so, he is out of Camelot's grasp now even if it were to be found out by others. You, Gwaine, have always stood by Merlin since the two of you met. Merlin and Arthur have been close for a long time, but it is different. They were a destined friendship. Two sides to the same coin. But that time has not come yet. Neither are ready. But your friendship with Merlin has been something else entirely. Now, I have a very important question for you, Gwaine. And when I say important, I do mean quite possibly one of the most important questions I have ever asked anyone." He paused and turned to look the man in the eyes. "Can I trust you? Or rather, can Merlin trust you?"  
_

_"There are a lot of things I wouldn't tell you to trust me with," Gwaine teased and then fell serious. "But when it comes to Merlin, always."_

_Gaius was silent for a moment before he nodded and went to take a seat at the table._

_"You might want to sit down," he instructed Gwaine, who cautiously obeyed. "There's something you don't know about Merlin. Something very few people know about him. His mother, of course. His father learned the secret right before he died. I, myself, found out the first day he stepped into my chambers and saved my life. There was another friend who knew. A knight. Lancelot."_

_Gwaine was sure his features betrayed his sudden sharp emotions behind his usual jovial or indifferent mask. He had witnessed the strong bond that Lancelot and Merlin had shared. To discover Merlin had been keeping a secret from him all these years was surprising, and that Lancelot had known all along was difficult. Not to mention that hearing the fallen fellow knights, the fallen friend's, name was still painful. He may not have been as close to Lancelot as Merlin had been, but the two had become friends over their time in Camelot together._

_"Lancelot found out Merlin's secret by accident, but he was loyal to Merlin and kept it. It is because of this, that I feel that I might just be able to trust you as well. Merlin, you see, is unlike anyone else in the world. He is unique, in more ways than one. Yes, there is his secret, but he is also singly the most kind, sacrificing, selfless, strongest people I have had the privilege of knowing. He bears a great burden. One neither you nor I can begin to understand. The stuff of prophecies and legends that date back centuries. It is his destiny. A gift, but also a curse. To carry such a weight alone. It was never easy for Merlin, but with Lancelot here, I think it was better. Merlin had me, but I am an old man and more of a father than a friend to him. It was good for him to have that friend that knew his secret. I believe now that if you could learn of this secret, could accept it, and keep it, not only could you save Merlin, but then, after you have found him, he would not have to be so alone any longer. But I need you to swear to me, to Merlin, that you will not speak of it, to anyone."_

_Gwaine was still attempting to swallow everything Gaius had been saying when he realized the man was waiting for an answer._

_"Of course," Gwaine nodded, his voice far more serious then most ever heard it. "I swear."_

_There was a measured moment before Gaius drew in a long breathe and finally spoke._

_"Merlin," he began slowly, "has magic."_


	26. Strange Reunion

"So Merlin never told you about his magic?" Will asked once the man was done. _  
_

"Nah," Gwaine shook his head. "I reckon Merlin hardly told anyone about it. Gaius found out by Merlin saving him. Lancelot saw Merlin use magic."

"And I found out by finding his book," Djaq nodded. "He was terrified when I told him."

"I don't know how much Merlin told you about Camelot," Gwaine sighed, "but he had good reason to be afraid. I was angry, at first, that Merlin didn't trust me enough to tell me. To think  _I_ would care about something like that? But I understand. Arthur's father, Uther, hated magic. He killed anyone who had anything to do with it, good or bad. If Merlin hadn't kept it hidden, he'd probably be dead."

"But he risked everything to try to save this king that would have him dead," Allan shook his head.

"That's just how Merlin is," Gwaine grinned. "Always thinking about everyone else except himself."

"But why didn't it work?" Will questioned. "Why did the king die?"

"Gaius told me that he found a necklace around Uther's neck. That it'd been enchanted or spelled or what to reverse Merlin's healing spell." Gwaine explained. "All Arthur saw was the spell and the Uther dying."

"Did Merlin know about this necklace?" Robin stepped forward.

"No," Gwaine bowed his head. "He left without even saying goodbye to Gaius so he never had a chance to tell him."

"So Merlin thinks he killed the king?" Much gasped.

"Yes," Gwaine sighed. "Merlin would never leave without saying goodbye to any of us, especially Gaius,  _unless_ it was to protect us. When Arthur came at him while Merlin was still in disguise, Gaius told me that Merlin's magic must have reacted, like instinct, throwing Arthur across the room. Same thing happened when I found him."

"So he thought he had killed his friend's father and possibly hurt or killed two of his best friends?" Allan let out a puff of breath. "No wonder he acts the way he does."

"There was something else Gaius told me," Gwaine swallowed. "Something he warned me about. It was the reason he told me about Merlin's magic. So I could find him, before it was too late."

"Too late?" Much prompted.

"If Merlin thinks he hurt people," Gwaine explained, "it would kill him. It's just who he is. According to Gaius, he's been afraid of his magic before. Of this destiny and all that. How powerful he is. If he was afraid of his magic, and he stopped using it, all of it, which Gaius suspected he would, it'd be dangerous."

"Dangerous how?" John pressed.

"Gaius said that the magic, it's a part of Merlin. Not something he does or practices or chooses. It just, well, is."

"I understand," Djaq nodded, her eyes showing comprehension before Gwaine even finished. "It is why he was so afraid of healing Will. He told me he was afraid of hurting Will like he had hurt others and also afraid of us finding out, but there was something else I could tell he wasn't saying. And how he would go off alone in the forest."

"I  _don't_  understand," Much interrupted.

"Gwaine just said that Merlin's magic can be instinctual. It protects him. What if that happened when he tried to save the woman from the thief? After having spent so much time suppressing his magic, he couldn't stop it. He was not just in some trance. He was trying to control it."

"Exactly," Gwaine agreed. "Gaius said the magic would be burning inside Merlin if he didn't at least use a little sometimes. If he shut it out, it would slowly kill him. But if any got out, it'd be like trying to dam a flood. Like a beast inside of him, clawing to get out."

"And what happens if it  _does_ get out?" Much swallowed.

"If Merlin doesn't let his magic out, slowly," Gwaine sighed, "Gaius said it'd either kill him, or everyone around him."

"So if we go to Nottingham and see the castle in ruins, we'll know why," Allan surmised, though lacking the bite his normal jesting had.

"I thought we should get some rest," Robin started with a sigh, "but knowing this new information, we should not waste any time. Merlin may be safe from the sheriff for some time, but he is not safe from himself."

"Or anyone around him," John added a bit warily.

"No one  _has_ to come," Robin replied. "I am not saying that all this - I can hardly believe any of it myself. I don't know. The only thing I  _do_ know is that Merlin has been our friend, no matter what else he is. And we don't leave our friends to die."

"He saved my life," Will slowly stood, "I'd like to return the favor."

"Mine too," Djaq nodded. "And he is a good man."

"I owe him," Allan added.

"He was always kind to me," Much stepped forward. "Of course, I'm coming."

"You aren't going anywhere without me," Gwaine grinned.

There was a pause before finally Little John lifted his staff.

"Aye," he smiled, "me too."

They had already been beginning to formulate a plan before Gwaine had stumbled upon them and quickly departed. They whispered ideas and finishing touches as they slipped through the forest, toward Nottingham.

They had been following the main path for some time and were nearly to their destination when a soft shout pierced their quiet convoy and the night.

The group separated, dividing onto different sides of the road and hiding among the trees. Each one readied their weapon as the source of the noise grew closer.

They could hear heavy footfalls now. They were beating against the ground quickly. Hooves and feet. A half a dozen horses, at least, pursuing a small party on foot. An odd occurrence in the middle of the night.

The shadowed figures finally came into view. Four men were running wildly down the road, six horses and their riders following closely behind. Suddenly, a large man on foot stopped and spun around, slicing a sword through the air and knocking one of the riders off his steed. The other three followed suit in the tactical attack. It took their pursuers by surprise and the four were able to get three of the riders separated from their horses. It was dark, and not much could be made out of the fight. The four stranger's chainmail glistened in the moonlight. Just barely, the onlookers could make out the attackers' apparel of the sheriff's guards.

The outlaws were exchanging glances and considering stepping in, when Gwaine swore under his breath, his eyes taking in the taller chainmail clad individual.

"I'd know that man's skill with a sword with my eyes closed," he shook his head.

Before any of the others could respond, Gwaine was leaping from his place of cover and joining the battle.

He blocked a blow meant for the tall stranger and the man whirled around on him, and froze.

"Well, you could say thank you," Gwaine teased.

"Gwaine?" Came to astonished reply.

"Good to see you too, Percival."


	27. The Plot

_"Good to see you too, Percival."_

"What are you doing here?" Percival chortled as he blocked a blow from an opponent.

"Could ask you the same question, mate," Gwaine grinned, "but I'd say let's have some fun first."

Gwaine whirled around to parry an attack. The small battle was now all taking place on foot as all of the guards had either been knocked from their steed or had dismounted to join the scuffle.

"Ha!" Gwaine shouted merrily. "This is almost too easy!"

And it truly was. The sheriff's guards were simply no match for men with knight training behind them. Soon, all six were on their backs or faces in the dirt, Gwaine still laughing.

That was, of course, until he turned around.

Robin and the others had emerged soundlessly from the trees, their weapons were pointed at the still standing men.

"I was going to ask you why you didn't help," Gwaine stepped forward, "even if we easily took care of them ourselves. But now I have a very different question on my mind," he eyed Robin's bow suspiciously as it took aim at Percival's chest.

"I would've helped," Robin began, his voice low, "had I not recognized who these men are."

"Does everyone in this forest know each other?" Gwaine rolled his eyes. "However you know them, whatever has happened, these are my friends," Gwaine stepped purposefully in front of Percival and the others as his glare darkened. "And I would kindly ask you to stop pointing arrows at them."

"Your  _friends_ almost killed Will," John grunted.

"You were robbing us," came a reply from a dark skinned younger man.

"Peacefully," Robin challenged.

"How do you rob someone peacefully?" A blonde knight shook his head.

"It is who we are," Robin explained. "It is what we do. Steal from the nobles, the rich. And give to the poor. We were telling you this when you attacked."

"You expect the king's knights to stand by and let thieves steal from him?" A short, yet stocky and muscled man spat in a scratchy voice.

" _King's_ knights?" Much didn't try to catch his jaw as it dropped.

"You're not King Richard's men," Robin examined them. "Which king?"

"Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot," the shorter man responded.

"Camelot?" Again, Much was the one to gasp.

"These are knights of Camelot, my friends, and friends of Merlin." Gwaine explained.

"Merlin?" The dark skinned boy spoke up hopefully. "You found him?"

"It's - er - complicated, Elyan." Gwaine scratched at the back of his head.

" _He_  still stabbed Will," Allan pointed at Percival accusingly.

"My new friends," Gwaine lifted his hands, "you must understand. Where we come from, thieves are  _never_  peaceful and never do they have noble purposes. The bandits that live in our forests don't just steal from you. The strike first to kill, and take what is left from the bodies. My friends had no way of knowing you wouldn't do the same."

Percival bravely took several steps toward Will, despite the weapons trained on his movements.

"I remember you," he spoke slowly and sincerely. "I did not see you come behind me. I reacted on instinct. When I saw your face, I pulled back. But it was too late. I am truly sorry."

"Camelot has known peace for some time now," the blonde continued. "But at a cost." His eyes wandered briefly to Gwaine. "It is not just bandits that we have had to deal with. Powerful forces you cannot imagine. People and creatures beyond comprehension. Camelot may be peaceful now, but it was not always this way. And even so, the surrounding forests and villages and cities do not always know such peace."

"What are you talking about, Leon?" Gwaine crossed his arms. "What's going on?"

"After you left," Elyan sighed, "Arthur became almost worse than Uther. Since that sorcerer killed his father and Merlin went missing, he's spent all his time hunting down anything and anyone to do with magic."

"It's not just Morgana," Leon explained. "Even if he has tripled his efforts in finding and defeating her."

"And he's seeking them out," Elyan continued. "City to city, village to village. Asking questions. Taking people."

"Sounds like a tyrant," Much mumbled.

"How dare you speak of the king in such a manner," the stocky man shouted, gripping his sword.

"Oh, calm down, Lucan," Gwaine rolled his eyes.

"That's  _Sir_ Lucan, to you," the man spat. "You are no longer a knight."

"I'm more of a knight than you'll ever be, mate," Gwaine scoffed but then turned somber. "So, you're telling the truth? Arthur has gone off the deep end like his father, huh?"

"You're talking about our king!" Another knight huffed.

"No," Gwaine turned on the man, "we're talking about someone who used to be our friend,  _Sir_ _Daniel_. You were a knight, what, a grand total of two minutes before I left?"

"Is that a challenge?" Sir Daniel straightened.

"When it's a challenge, you'll know," Gwaine replied dangerously.

"We do not have time for this!" Djaq suddenly shouted. "Merlin is in danger."

"Danger?" Elyan echoed. "What sort of danger?"

"She is right," Gwaine surrendered, still eyeing Daniel. "Merlin needs our help. The sheriff has him. Seeing as you are here, you could help - wait - what  _are_ you doing here? Don't think we cleared that up with all the shouting."

"Apparently it is not only Merlin that the sheriff has," Leon sighed. "He has Arthur, and Guinevere."

"Gwen?" Gwaine swallowed, shifting his sights to Elyan's somber nod of affirmation. "What happened? I know what I was doing so far from Camelot, but why were you here?"

"Arthur received word that Morgana had been sighted in Nottingham," Leon explained. "He made for England at once. Like we said, he has become fixated on finding her."

"Why was Gwen with you?" Gwaine shook his head.

"She and Arthur," Elyan began slowly, "are married now. Gwen is queen."

It took a full moment for the information to process before Gwaine could form speech.

"Even if she his," he said gradually, still comprehending, "why would she be on such a long and dangerous journey?"

"She refused to be apart from Arthur for such a length of time," Leon explained.

"She is about the only one left he will listen to," Elyan bowed his head, "that can make him see reason sometimes. She never leaves his side for that purpose."

"What does a sheriff in Nottingham, want with the king and queen of Camelot?" Allan questioned.

"The plot the kill the king," Robin murmured. "Of course. Marian told me the sheriff and Gisborne had been preparing for  _guests_ , and she said she overheard them talking about plans to kill the king. They weren't talking about King Richard. They plan to kill your king."

"But why?" Will shrugged. "It doesn't make any sense."

"It doesn't have to if Morgana is behind it," Gwaine mumbled. "She uses whoever she can to get what she wants. She's probably gotten all of her allies in Albion killed. So she comes here and gets the sheriff to do her dirty work. Probably offered him something in return. Like he'll get it before she kills him."

"And how did  _you_  get away?" Little John grunted at the knights.

"They let us go," Elyan shook his head. "They just wanted Arthur - and Gwen. Morgana was there. She sent us back to Camelot with instructions."

"Instructions?" Gwaine crossed his arms.

"To tell the people," Leon bowed his head, "of the king and queen's death."

"And to prepare Camelot," Percival swallowed, "for her return to the throne."


	28. The Plan

"After they let us go," Elyan continued, "we tried to go back and rescue Arthur and Gwen, but, well you saw how that ended. We don't know the castle well enough."

"Well," Robin slung in bow behind his back, "fortunately,  _we_ do."

"So, what do you say, mates?" Gwaine addressed both groups. "Can we work together here or what?"

It took several staggering moments, but finally everyone offered a nod and the two teams began sharing information and strategy.

"Why did they even take Merlin?" Elyan asked after awhile.

"Oh, that is one long story," Gwaine rolled his head back. "Look, I know you three better than I knew my own family and I know how you'll react after we tell you what we have to tell you. But these two," he cocked a thumb at Sir Lucan and Daniel, "I don't trust."

The pair both offered offended remarks before falling silent upon Gwaine's unsheathing of his sword.

"What you're about to hear, is a secret," he warned dangerously, his eyes dark. "The keeping of that secret, means the safety of my best friend. If you so much as  _breathe_ a single _word_  of it, I will personally hunt you down. If you try to hurt Merlin, in any way, you won't live long enough to remember it. That goes for everyone," he turned back to the group. "You three are like brothers to me, but I  _will_ protect Merlin from everyone, and anyone. That includes you. I would die for him. And be certain that I would also not hesitate to kill for him."

"That is true of me as well," Djaq stepped forward.

"And me," Will nodded.

"Me too," Much crossed his arms.

"Are you sure you can tell them?" Allan addressed Gwaine in almost a whisper.

"I trust my friends," Gwaine vowed. "And those two, well, those two I can threaten."

And so that long story was told. An abbreviated version, with Gwaine and the outlaws taking turns sharing their own bits as quickly and briefly as possible. The knights were, well, there wasn't really a singular word to describe how they responded to the onslaught of new information and revelations. Shocked, saddened, relieved, concerned, suspicious, angry, scared, impressed, and just about every adjective one could think of.

"Well," Percival chuckled after one of many particularly long moments of stunned silence, "that explains how he survived all those years."

"It definitely wasn't his sword skills," Elyan laughed.

Leon was mostly quiet as he listened, his features pensive. He neglected to respond for good or bad almost the entire time. But his eyes told them that he certainly wasn't indifferent.

If the other two knights had anything negative to say, they thankfully and intelligently kept their mouths shut.

"Leon?" Gwaine questioned as their conversation drew to a close.

"I - I'm not sure," the man started hesitantly. "I've spent my whole life being raised to fight magic, but I know it has saved my life. The Druids saved my life with the Cup. Merlin is the least dangerous or evil person I have ever known. I've seen both the good and evil magic can do, how powerful it can be. To imagine  _Merlin_ possessing such power, it is simply difficult to conceive."

"But will you help us?" Gwaine pressed.

"Yes," Leon nodded. "Of course."

"And you two?" Gwaine turned to Daniel and Lucan. "We can always tie you up out here? I think that might be fun."

"We will accompany you," Daniel answered for the pair. "For the king and queen."

"And here I was really hoping to tie you up," Gwaine sighed with a smile. "Alright, I'd say there's been enough talk for one night - or - morning as I suspect it soon will be."

"And I thought Merlin having magic would be the most surprising thing I'd ever hear," Elyan teased. "Now  _you're_ complaining about too much talking?"

"Funny," Gwaine made a face at his friend.

Alright," Robin straightened, "are we ready?"

* * *

"Are you ready, dear brother?" Morgana teased the king as she lowered herself to meet his stare.

The hunched over and held man simply glared at the witch.

"I was so hoping to kill you in front of your pathetic people in Camelot," she purred, "but this will have to do seeing how you've ran everyone with even an ounce of magic out of Camelot's borders."

"Good," Arthur spat.

"You are so much like your father," she seethed.

"Our father," Arthur corrected.

"No," Morgan slapped the king across the face. "I denounced any bond between him and I long ago."

"Then why do you still call me brother?" Arthur challenged.

The only reply his cheekiness was granted was another palm against his face.

"So," Arthur scoffed, "what's your plan this time? You always have a plan."

"The sheriff here has helped me get something I want," she playfully cupped his chin and then dropped it. "So then I will help him get something he wants. I'm going to be queen of Camelot, but that won't be all. All of Albion will soon be mine."

"You've never even succeeded in taking Camelot's throne," Arthur chuckled darkly, "what makes you believe you can take over all of Albion?"

"Oh, I think I can manage." Morgana's lips twisted into a jagged smile. "With you dead, Camelot will easily fall to me. And with England at my side, no one will be able to stop me from taking Albion as well."

"England?" Arthur huffed skeptically.

"Like I said," Morgana sneered, "He helps me, I help him. I've already met with Prince John once before in secret. We discussed our plans here. The sheriff will gain the power and position he wants. I will help the prince do away with King Richard, another royal mistake on the throne, like you. Prince John will become king of England. Together, we will take over. Kingdoms, countries, nothing and no one will stand in our way."

"' _Our_ way'?" Arthur laughed bitterly. "You've never cared about anyone you've allied with before. You betray them. Deceive them. Use them. Albion won't be enough for you." He paused and glanced up at Guy. "Has she told you about all the others she has made fools of? The ones she has tricked? The men she has killed that were helping her? And you think you can trust her." _  
_

"Enough," Morgana extended her hand and Arthur was immediately sent skidding across the floor, knocking over the two guards that had been holding him on his knees in the process. "Take him to the dungeons. Make sure he is guarded, properly. I didn't come all this way for your people to mess up my plan now."

The king was just coming around to consciousness again as he was dragged out the door, Morgana promptly shutting it with her powers.

"Is everything ready for tomorrow?" She questioned.

"The entire town will be present for the feast and celebration," Guy grinned. "Prince John is set to arrive in the morning."

"Good," the witch smiled. "I want my brother's death to have an audience. This way, your people will see the power behind their new leaders. Word will spread. I will be rightly feared in Camelot before I even make my return. And you will have what you have wanted. It will be the start of a new beginning."

"Make  _certain_ Arthur doesn't escape," Morgana hissed, turning toward the sheriff and Guy. "Keep the  _queen_  locked in her room and guarded. She too has proven to be a thorn in my side. More trouble than she appears. I don't want to give them the luxury of seeing each other until tomorrow. When their eyes meet one final time, right before I kill them both."


	29. Broken Words, Broken Bones

"Do you think we can trust her?" Guy whispered to the sheriff shortly after the witch had departed. "Do you think she will break her word?"

"Finally, showing some sense," the sheriff rolled his eyes. "And here I thought you were only interested in kissing her."

"Well?" Guy pressed impatiently. "There hasn't been any word from the prince since he made for Nottingham. And you heard what that king said."

"Of course I don't trust her," the sheriff snapped. "I don't trust anyone, least of all a  _woman_. Witch or not, they're all lepers, Gisborne. Better go and ready our new  _weapon_ , just in case."

Guy left without another word, heading toward the dungeons when he spotted the black haired woman resting thoughtfully near a window. Curiously, he approached her.

"If you're thinking about starting what you failed to finish earlier, don't bother," Morgana spoke without turning to look at him. "I'd rather my men not have their mind on other women."

Guy hadn't even had time to put out the flames from her scorching remark before the woman disappeared down the hall. With a small snarl, Gisborne retreated and headed back toward the dungeons.

He had already tried to bring Merlin to their side earlier that day and was now almost looking forward to trying to again.

_Merlin wasn't prepared for the fist that connected with his jaw. He crumbled backwards, crashing against the cell floor, dazed._

_"Chain him up," Guy ordered._

_Two guards hurried into the cell and began to string the young prisoner up by his wrists. Even in his own semi-lucid state, Merlin didn't miss the familiarity of it. His memory pulled him back to Morgana. To that fear. That agony. The witch had took hold over his mind. Somehow, looking into Guy's eyes, Merlin knew that this was going to be far more painful._

_"You will use your magic to help us," Guy began. "If you don't, or use it against us in any way, innocent people will be killed. Their blood will be on your hands."_

_"That's the end game," he continued. "For now, this is just to teach you some respect. Tame that tongue of yours."_

_"And here I thought you were just taking out your anger," Merlin mumbled._

_"I'd cut out that tongue if we didn't need it," Gisborne warned. "But, I wonder, do you need your other limbs?"_

_"Well I can't mix potions with my nose," Merlin bit back._

_"So, just your hands then," Guy nodded. "Good. No use for your legs then."_

_The sudden terror that drowned Merlin's eyes made Guy roar with laughter._

_"What? Nothing to say?" He shrugged. "Alright then."_

_"The weaker I am, the harder it is for me to use my magic," Merlin spat out hastily._

_"Well then, I guess you'll have to find a way to fix yourself," Guy reasoned. "I know magic is capable of that."_

_Merlin didn't take his dark eyes off of Gisborne as the man stalked over to a table outside of the cell. Guy's body was blocking whatever he had grabbed from Merlin's line of sight._

_"Remember, sorcerer," Guy hissed, "anything happens to me, the sheriff will kill everyone you care about, and then more for fun."_

_"You two have a pretty twisted idea of fun," Merlin huffed._

_"Hold him," Guy commanded, ignoring the statement._

_Merlin felt the break before his mind could even take into account what was about to happen. The flames of agony exploded in his knee, soon spreading through his entire leg. The fire consumed his very being. A bright light blinded him. He wasn't sure if it was his magic fighting to breach the surface, or the sheer blinding agony. He tried in vain not to scream, but the pain was far too much, even for him. A cry of anguish ripped its way through his throat._

_And then another break. Another blast of fire. Another scream._

_The very sound of his bones crumbling underneath his skin was almost worse than the feeling._

_Merlin felt the power within him surging forward to protect him. All he had to do, was let it, and his magic would wipe Guy Gisborne out of this world in one instant._

_Yet he couldn't._

_He couldn't use his powers again. Not like that. He wouldn't kill again. And he certainly wouldn't endanger innocent lives over his own. With how long so much of his magic had been caged, unleashing it amidst the torture without proper control could take down the entire town._

_Guy drew his weapon again. It crashed against Merlin's already limp leg. The prisoner howled, his vision tilting and then growing unclear from the soon oncoming unconsciousness and tears. It took everything he had to keep his magic at bay. The desire to call out for the great dragon was also pushing against his will. Kilghara wouldn't be able to free him without taking many lives in the process. It wasn't as if the giant beast could simply walk into the castle. He would most likely just tear it apart. Besides, calling on Kilghara meant using his powers, accessing the most ancient depths of his magic. It was more than just the town that was in danger of his gifts. He worried that if he allowed even that little bit of magic out, he would not be able to suppress the rest of it once more. His powers would lash out to save him. All of Nottingham and the surrounding villages might fall victim to him._

_There were simply too many risks._

_His thoughts were painfully interrupted as once more his leg flared up in agony. The flames consumed him again, this time, bringing with them darkness. Merlin fell into the black abyss, too busy relishing in the absence of pain to be worried about his dark descent._


	30. I Am Merlin

Merlin was uncertain of how long he had been unconscious. Upon waking, all he knew was pain. The agony returned to him before he even found the strength to open his eyes. After remembering what had happened, he wasn't sure he even wanted to. Minutes passed, and ever so slowly, Merlin felt his other senses kicking in so that he could finally feel more than just pain. The cold stone floor shocked his system and he involuntarily shivered. The smell of rust poisoned the air. It wasn't unitl the prisoner finally pealed back his weary and weighted eyelids that he discovered the source of the stench. Dried blood stained his pants. The once sandy colored cloth was now almost entirely a charred crimson. The physician inside of him told him to check his injuries, but the tired captive didn't desire to do any moving at all. He almost wished to submerge himself back into the depths of the darkness.

How long would it be before he was visited by his tormentor again?

How long before he was called upon to fight this unknown sorcerer?

His choices were bleak. If he battled the sorcerer in his current state, he would surely be struck down and defeated. If he employed magic to heal himself, then he might not be able to stop himself from exploding. If he resisted, people would die. His friends would be branded not only outlaws, but also sorcerer sympathizers.

Hanging his head, Merlin tried to return to the blackness of unconsciousness. He was nearly there when the sound of shouting roused him.

"Get your hands off of me!" An all too familiar voice barked. "I am a king! I demand you unhand me! I said release me!"

_No._

It couldn't be. It wasn't possible.

Merlin blinked. And then again. Surely he had fallen asleep. Maybe he had never awoken at all.

This could not be real.

Hearing the scuffle growing closer, Merlin used his arms to clumsily crawl into the far corner of his cell. He tried to hide himself in the shadows. His magic roared within him. He yearned to simply disappear. Even still, he wouldn't allow the power any foothold and the crawl was too painful. He wasn't quick enough.

As the struggling prisoner was tossed into the adjoining cell, Merlin could do nothing but grow stiff. He froze in fear, wide eyes on the cursing blonde head of hair.

The new captive heaved himself off the ground, storming toward the cell door. He gave it a few violent shakes and kicks before resigning. Backing farther into the cage, the blonde man ran a tired hand over his face and began to pace. He had only just pivoted when he too turned into a statue. His hand hovered in mid air at his chin while his eyes flashed a flood of emotions.

" _You_."

His voice was far more dangerous than Merlin had ever known it to be.

"Arthur -"

"You!"

Arthur charged at the metal cage wall separating them, murder screaming in his eyes.

"You can't be here," was all Merlin could muster.

"I am here and when I get out I'm going to kill everyone who put me here, starting with you!"

 _"You,"_  Merlin's voice could hardly stir the dusts of the dungeon. "You're the king. You're the king the sheriff is planning to kill?"

"Don't act surprised," Arthur growled. "You're involved in all of this."

"What?"

"The sheriff is working with sorcerers. You're one of them!"

"You think I'd be down here if I was?" Merlin challenged, cut by the accusation.

"It's some sort of trick," Arthur spat. "Speaking of tricks, how dare you walk around wearing the face of a dead man! Is it not enough that you killed him? You continue to walk about as him. You are truly evil."

"Arthur -"

"Do not speak to me. You have a serpent's tongue. All your words are poison. Lies."

"Arthur,  _please_. I  _have_  lied to you." Merlin swallowed and his began to shiver. "But not in the way you think."

Merlin hesitated here. Was he really going to do this? Merlin was sure he wasn't getting out of this alive. But maybe if Arthur knew, Arthur could fight. Could run. He had a chance to escape. To live. If he was going to do so though, he would have to be prepared. He'd have to know everything.

Not to mention the longing in Merlin's heart. He never imagined he would see Arthur again. Now here they were, probably their final moments together. Merlin couldn't die now without Arthur knowing the truth.

"There are things you do not know," Merlin whispered.

"Really?" Arthur scoffed. "Like what?"

"Arthur, you might hate me even more for what I am about to tell you," Merlin began with a shaky breath. "You may even still want to kill me. But please, just listen. Listen and know that  _everything_ I did was for  _you_ , Arthur. To keep you safe. To protect you."

" _You_ protect  _me_?" Arthur sneered.

"Just listen," Merlin repeated. "You're not going to like it. You might not even believe me. But I hope, perhaps someday, you can forgive me. I cannot face death without telling you the truth. Merlin -"

"How  _dare_ you speak his name!" Arthur rattled the cell wall.

"He -"

"How dare you even think of Merlin! How -"

"I  _am_  Merlin!"

A sharp silence crashed over the two of them. Merlin waited with baited breath, studying Arthur's twists and turns in his face, trying desperately to read his reaction.

"You are a liar!" He shook his head.

"I'm your  _friend!"_  Merlin pleaded. "I'm your servant. I am your servant and your friend. The first day we met, I called you friend, you remember that?"

"Your using magic," Arthur spat. "Your inside my head, inside my thoughts."

"We fought the dragon together! I drank poison for you! I jumped in front of the Dorocha, for  _you_ , Arthur. I offered myself as the sacrifice to the Caelic instead of you. And when your father was dying, you asked me, not Agravaine or anyone else, but  _me,_  if I would use magic to save him, and I said that I would do whatever it takes."

Merlin paused as Arthur's features began to shift. He waited for the anger, the elation, anything. Anything apart from this silence.

"Merlin?" Arthur swallowed the name slowly. "You - you're alive?"

All Merlin could do was nod.

Something between a gasp and a laugh escaped the king's throat. His lips twitched and formed a long and wide smile. He slapped his palms against the cage bars separating them in jubilation, as if to reach out to his long lost friend.

"You're alive!" Again he breathed out a laugh. "But how?"

"This is the part you're not going to like," Merlin mumbled darkly.

"The old man said you were gone," Arthur continued disbelievingly. "I thought thatt he killed you."

"No, Arthur," Merlin closed his eyes for a fraction of a moment, "I told you that."

"What? What are you talking about? That's impossible."

"Arthur," Merlin's lids fell down once more as he stole a long breath. "I  _am_ that old man."

Arthur's joyful expression extinguished.

"No. You aren't Merlin," he bit off.

"No, I  _am_ Merlin. The sorcerer, is me. Not the other way around. Arthur, I have magic. I've always had magic. I was born with it. I - I can't change it. Even if I want to. And I  _want_ to. Believe me. I tried to save your father. You couldn't know it was me so I used a potion. I turned myself into an old man so you wouldn't recognize me."

"No," Arthur's voice was broken and barely above that of a breath. "No. I trusted you. You were my friend."

"I still am -"

"You. You killed my father!" Arthur thrust a finger that felt more like a knife at Merlin. "After everything we - and I -  _you?_ _"_

"No!" Merlin's voice was drowning in sorrow. "No, I was trying to save him! The spell was supposed to work. I - I don't know why it didn't. I blame myself for his death every day, but it wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to save him."

"How am I to believe anything you say now? You're a liar! And a -  _sorcerer_!"

"I've only ever used my magic for  _good,"_  Merlin was nearly sobbing. "To help people. To save them. To save  _you."_

"I don't believe you," Arthur shook his head.

"Do you know how many times I've used magic to save you?" Merlin challenged, his love for his friend momentarily outweighing his self-loathing.

_"Do you realize how many times I've had to save your royal backside?"_

_"You don't know how many times I've saved your life."_

_"Your own life has been saved using magic more times than you can possibly imagine."_

"This can't be true," Arthur swallowed stiffly. "This can't be real.  _You_ can't be a  _sorcerer_."

"Would you rather remain thinking I am dead?" Merlin questioned only to quickly regret it as he saw the look in the king's eyes.

As much as Merlin blamed and punished himself, there was still that part deep inside of him that had kept him fighting to stay alive all this time. It was there, in the depths of his very being, that he was still reaching out to Arthur and for that friendship and acceptance he secretly, desperately desired. So when the king's features fell and his eyes revealed to the young wizard the answer to his question there was only one thing Merlin could say. One word that seemed to take every ounce of strength and fight right out of him.

"No."

"I'm sorry," Arthur whispered, and for the briefest of moments, Merlin glimpsed his old friend, before his features turned stony again. "I would."


	31. Physician, Heal Thyself

"Alright, sorcerer!"

Merlin stiffened at the unwelcome voice. The two prisoners had sat together in shared silence since Arthur's final words. Merlin had been afraid to so much as glance at his old friend. Arthur had studied the cell for a possible escape until he was left pacing and then finally sank down in defeat, at the farthest possible place from the magician possible.

"Time to hold true to your end of the deal."

"So you are working with them," Arthur scoffed silently, a flicker of sadness underneath the searing hostility.

"You don't understand," Merlin pleaded, meeting the man's gaze for the first time.

"You two know each other?" Guy questioned curiously. "Well, my  _king_ , hope you don't mind if I borrow your friend here."

"He is no friend of mine," Arthur replied icily.

"Arthur -"

"Oh, stop your squabbling," Guy snapped. "You can finish bickering later. Wait," he stopped and smiled. "You can't. You," he nodded at Arthur, "will be dead. And you," he turned back to Merlin, "well, your fate's to be determined, isn't it?"

Merlin watched warily as his cell was opened and Guy stalked inside.

"Looks like there's finally a use for you," Gisborne sneered down at the wizard.

"Your sorcerer betray you already?" Merlin almost chuckled.

The icy haze that swept over Guy's glare like crystal fire quickly told Merlin that this betrayal was far more personal.

"We suspect the sorcerer is going to go back on their word. They don't know that we know. They also don't know we have you. And before any of your annoyingly stupid remarks, remember the sheriff's promise. You do as you're told, or people die."

Merlin stared up at the man darkly, the eyes of the last dragon lord, the prophesied Emrys, beating back against his irises. The young magician swallowed the magic down before it could come leap to his aid.

"But I've had a really bad day," Guy grinned. "So, what do you say we start this the old fashioned way for fun? We can always kill your precious peasants later." He approached Merlin menacingly and then glanced down at the sorcerer's legs. "Why have you yet to heal yourself?" He demanded.

"You're the one who caused the damage," Merlin smirked, despite his pain and terror. "You fix it."

"I had hoped I had broken your spirit along with your legs," Guy grunted, to which Arthur glanced at Merlin's limp legs for the first time. "Oh, well. You'll learn."

"I'll die before I let you teach me anything," Merlin glared up defiantly at Gisborne.

"That can be arranged,  _sorcerer_." He sneered. "Heal yourself," Guy commanded. "There's work for you to do."

Merlin didn't move. He didn't even speak. He wasn't sure again what to do at all.

"Heal yourself!" Guy shouted as he slapped Merlin across the face. "Do it,  _now_."

The last word was so low it seemed to resonate off the stone walls. Gisborne knelt before Merlin then. Without warning, he punched his fist down on Merlin's mangled leg. The paralyzed prisoner yelped and struggled. Guy quickly attacked the other limp limb, smiling crookedly when his efforts granted him another grim shriek.

"Use your magic," Guy whispered.

When Merlin again neglected to respond, Gisborne stood with a sigh. Turning as if to leave, he suddenly stomped down on the wizard's battered knee. Merlin's howl was enough to make even the guards flinch.

Arthur merely looked on, all the while unsure if he was happy or disturbed by the man who killed his father being tortured. It was still Merlin after all.  _No_ , the Merlin he knew was dead. He never even existed.

"Alright, fine," Guy backed away from Merlin. "Have it your way. I warned you."

Gisborne began opening Arthur's cell door, a sinister smile on his face that made Merlin sick. Guy drew his sword before entering, guards doing the same behind him.

"No," Merlin mumbled, sensing his plan.

"I can't kill him yet," Guy sneered, "that's later. But I can chop off a few of his fingers, maybe a hand or a foot. Maybe now you'll learn."

Merlin watched as Gisborne's blade journey swiftly towards the king's wrist. With a sudden scream, Merlin's eyes flashed gold. In an instant, a force shot out from his very being. The walls of the cells rattled and Gisborne, along with his men, went crashing through the air.

Arthur was momentarily stunned at the sorcerer's display of power.

"Arthur! Run!"

The king was shaken out of his stupor, his large eyes meeting Merlin's.

"Go, now! Get out of here! Save yourself!"

Arthur stood in indecision for a hesitant moment before bolting from his cell and the dungeons, leaving his old friend behind.

"Isn't that nice?' Guy chuckled as he slowly pulled himself to his feet. "Some friends you have. You and Hood." Guy shook his head as he approached the wizard. "So much alike. Stupid and selfless till the end."

"That's us alright."

Both Gisborne and Merlin snapped their heads up at the familiar cocky voice.


	32. Sorceress

"Hood," Guy grunted.

"Oh," Robin grinned, "and he does have friends. Friends who are going to save him from you and ruin yours and the sheriff's plans at the same time."

"You'd risk your life to save  _him_?" Guy jabbed an accusing finger in Merlin's direction. "A  _sorcerer_? Even for an outlaw like you, Hood, that is –"

"He's not a sorcerer and he's not your pawn. He's my friend and I'm taking him back." Robin replied dangerously.

"You'd be branded a sympathizer to those who practice magic," Guy warned. "You won't just be outlaws, you'll be  _outcasts_. Even your precious people of Locksley won't welcome you home anymore."

"I'm willing to take that risk," Robin challenged, stepping forward with his sword now drawn.

Without warning, Gisbourne lunged towards the outlaw with his blade. Robin easily leapt out of the weapon's path as he drew forward for a counter attack.

Merlin watched the dance, though flickering his attention every so often to the two still unconscious guards. The duel was fairly evenly matched and Merlin's magic yearned to tilt the odds. Still, he couldn't. The power he had used to save Arthur hadn't truly broken free by Merlin's volition. And all it had managed to do was make the king fear him and run away. Merlin also wasn't sure if the guards were even still alive. What if he had killed them with his magic? Even if they were working for Gisbourne, they didn't deserve death. No one did.

A loud crash quickly drew Merlin's attentions back to the fight. Guy was in the process of crumpling to the ground in one of the cells. It appeared as though his head had collided with the metal bars of its wall. Robin hastily went about locking Gisborne in before he could rouse.

Without a moment's hesitation, Robin turned and unlocked Merlin's cell door, tossing they keys to the side.

"Come on," he urged, hurrying forward to the prisoner who has still sitting on the floor. "We have to go,  _now."_

"I can't," Merlin confessed. "He broke my legs."

Robin glanced at the sorcerer's stained and oddly angled limbs.

"Can you do something," Robin questioned hurriedly but then hesitated, "with your - magic?"

"You - you  _know_?" Merlin visibly paled.

"It's a long story, one that we don't have time for right now," Robin shook his head. "Can you do it?" He repeated.

"It would take too long and I don't know if I'm strong enough right now," Merlin answered, still shocked and unsure. "Go on without me. Make sure Arthur is safe."

"I will not leave you," Robin argued.

"You have to," Merlin pleaded. "I'll slow you down."

"Then I'll speed you up."

Robin paid no heed to his injured friend's objections as he lifted the man quickly, yet carefully, over his shoulder.

Merlin only paused his protests long enough to grunt or groan in pain.

"I'm sorry, my friend," Robin lamented as nearly every single simple movement caused Merlin some degree of discomfort.

"Where are the others?" Merlin asked through moans.

"Getting your king to safety," Robin whispered. "And your queen. There were more guards to deal with than usual."

"Gwen?" Merlin choked. "She's here too?"

"Sheriff had her," Robin hastily informed him. "She's alright. She's strong, that one. And spirited. Good fighter."

"She was my first friend in Camelot," Merlin sighed soberly.

"You'll have plenty of time to catch up when I get you out of here," Robin assured him.

"Don't you mean  _if_ you get him out of here?"

Robin slid to a stop as he rounded a corner of the castle. The beautiful black haired woman that stood in his way was smiling in a way that made the outlaw tense. He quickly calculated his options in his head. He could chance running with Merlin or he could stand and fight. She was a mere woman after all. A simple dagger was all that she carried for a weapon. He could most certainly take her down without much effort.

Meanwhile, Merlin's head was spinning. The velvet voice violently pierced his ears, echoing and slicing in his brain. He wanted to cry out. To warn Robin.

Before either Robin or Merlin could act though, Morgana lifted her hand. Both men went flying through the air. Robin rolled down the hall, his sword sliding even further. Merlin toppled into a wall, howling through tears as his legs hit the solid stone. Robin made to stand to hurry to his friend's side when he found he could no longer command his limbs to move. Merlin soon found his body too was unnaturally stiff.

"Morgana," Merlin breathed. "You're the sorcerer the sheriff has been working with. Or should I say, sorceress."

"And  _you're_ the sorcerer the sheriff planned to use against me, or should  _I_ say, Emrys."

Morgana's lips spread into a slim smile at the confusion spreading across Merlin's face.

"Oh, I know all about your little potion," she spoke sinister and sweet. "Quite impressive, really. Taking on the form of someone Arthur trusted so much. I'm actually jealous. I always thought the stupid servant could come in handy."

She paused and began striding forward.

"We could work together," Morgana reasoned. "We're on the same side."

"I could never be on your side," Merlin mumbled, his weak voice growing with resentment. "You kill innocent people."

"So did you," Morgana challenged. "Of course,  _Merlin_ wasn't so innocent. Always getting in my way. I wish I could've been the one to finally end his short and pathetic life. Besides, how many innocent people died at Uther's hands, and how many will die at Arthur's?"

"Arthur is a good man," Merlin protested. "A good king."

"Ever since you killed our father, Arthur has made it his mission to hunt down people like us." Morgana seethed and then snickered. "Well, ever since  _I_ killed our father."

"What?" Merlin nearly choked.

"I found out my  _dear_ magic hating brother was going to use the very thing he was against to save Uther. So I made it so any healing spell performed on him wouldn't heal – but kill instantly."

"You?" Merlin swallowed his shock, which was quickly turning to rage. "You killed him! All this time – I –" Merlin cut himself off. "I could've saved him! Then Arthur could've seen magic _can_ be used for good!"

"And have allowed Uther to live?" Morgana spat.

" _You_ caused Arthur's hatred of magic! Not me!" Merlin shouted despite his weary voice.

"Uther needed to die –"

"You used to stand up for what was right," Merlin lamented.

"I still do." Morgana spoke, straightening.

"No," Merlin shook his head. "You say that is why you're doing this but you're wrong. You're lying to me – and yourself. This is about power now. Any goodness, any decency, any care for others you had in you is gone. The Morgana I knew all those years ago is dead. You seek only Arthur's throne and power. You wish to rule Camelot, not for the good of magic, but for the good of your own self."

"It is my birthright!" Morgana shrieked sharply.

"No," Merlin swallowed. "It's Arthur's. And if anything happens to him, Gwen will be ruler. And I will die before I let you harm either of them."

"Well now," Morgana was grinning again. "That can be arranged."

Robin watched in muted terror as the breathtaking stranger placed a hand on Merlin's chest. He listened to the foreign words that paraded off her lips and into Merlin's very being. He could do nothing as his friend writhed and screamed, and then suddenly slumped over.

"No!" Robin shouted.

"Oh," Morgana turned to the outlaw with disinterest. "You're still here? Don't worry. I didn't kill him, yet. I won't make it that easy. For either of you."

Robin struggled with every ounce of strength he possessed to fight, run, anything. All he could muster was a pathetic twisting of his torso as the source of the magic that bound him drew closer. He watched her hand touch his chest and felt his world slip into darkness.


	33. The Road to Damascus

"They should've been back by now," Much mumbled as he paced.

"It's Robin," Will's voice didn't match the confidence of his words. "He always makes it back."

"Except for when he doesn't," Much argued anxiously. "We should  _never_ have split up."

"It wasn't a choice," Leon lamented as he allowed Djaq to stitch a cut on his arm closed. "Our plan failed."

"There were more guards than I've ever seen," Allan shook his head, pressing his hand to the new lump that decorated his skull.

"Morgana must've brought some of her own men," Elyan sighed.

"What if something went wrong?" Much crossed his arms. "What if he's in trouble and we're just standing around here doing nothing?" Much suddenly turned, stabbing an accusatory finger at the king. "You! Where were  _you?_  Why didn't you stay? Why didn't you help?"

"Merlin told me to go," Arthur answered angrily.

"And you listened?" Gwaine was the one speaking up now, ignoring his bleeding forehead. "I remember a time when you were willing to abandon quests to save him."

" _You_ are no longer one of my knights," Arthur barked. "You do not have any authority to speak to me in such a way."

"I'll show you authority!" Gwaine challenged, fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword.

"How dare you address the king in such a manner!" Sir Lucan spat.

"Enough!" Gwen shouted, though no one was listening.

"I don't know what Merlin sees in you," Allan addressed the king.

"You should hear the way he talks about you," Much agreed.

"Some  _friend_  you are," Will added hotly.

"You know  _nothing_ of me or Merlin!" Arthur challenged coarsely.

"We know everything," Will spoke slow and serious, making sure the king understood his message.

Arthur only hesitated for a moment.

"You may know him, but you do not know me!" Arthur bellowed.

"Enough!" Gwen repeated, her cry resonating through the forest. "Arthur," she started softly, "they may not know you, but I do. Or at least, I did. You are a different man, Arthur Pendragon. I joined you in marriage in hopes that one day you would return to the man I love. I had thought that maybe once you grieved and moved on," she paused, her breath catching. "You never moved on though, Arthur. Your father died and instead of mourning him, you became him."

"How dare you –"

"Gwaine is right," Gwen continued boldly, only a speck of fear flickering in her firm gaze. "Merlin was your friend. The two of you would have gladly given your lives for each other. If you can't remember that feeling, then remember the moments. Merlin saved my life and our love by pretending to be that crazy old man." A ghost of smile threatened her lips, thinking back and realizing it was her friend behind that belligerent bearded old goat. "He saved your life when he barely knew you. Sorcerer or not, he is your friend, and a good man. And if you cannot see that, Arthur, than you are not the king I had long ago hoped you to be."

Silence swept over the camp as the queen's speech drew to a close.

Gwaine's fingers caressed the hilt of his sword, ready to defend Guinevere should Arthur react violently. Elyan did the same, even stepping forward to close the distance between himself and his sister. Leon merely stared at his king in worry and then at his queen in shock while Percival followed Elyan's footsteps.

The outlaws were all open mouthed, gazing at the outspoken woman in awe. Will and Djaq noticed the knight's movements and tensed. John gripped his stick, more than ready to teach the ungrateful noble a lesson. Much and Allan were the only two behind Arthur and they made ready to restrain the king.

In the middle of it all, stood Arthur, still as stone.

His mind flashed to those buried memories. He saw Merlin's goofy grin. He remembered his servant's selfless soul. And then he recalled other things. Words and moments long buried.

" _Do I know you?"_

" _Uh, I'm Merlin –"_

" _So I don't know you."_

" _Yet you called me '_ friend _'."_

Arthur cringed mentally at his first meetings with the wizard and then more memories flooded him.

" _There's something about you, Merlin."_

" _You can trust me."_

" _Whatever happens out there today, please don't think any differently of me."_

" _I can't stand by and watch him die."_

" _And what kind of king do you think Camelot would want? One that would risk his life for a lowly servant, or one that does what his father tells him to?"_

" _Someone knew I was in trouble and sent a light to guide the way."_

" _Who?"_

" _I don't know. Whoever it was, I'm only here because of them."_

" _Arthur, thank you."_

" _You too."_

Arthur didn't have to ask. He knew. Somehow, he had known, deep down, all those years ago, that it was Merlin who had saved him that day, but could never bring himself to admit it. He had felt Merlin there with him. Now, he was sure it was him.

" _I'm happy to be your servant, till the day I die."_

" _Sometimes I think I know you, Merlin. Other times –"_

" _Well, I know you. And you're a great warrior. One day you'll be a great King."_

He had been so sure, so confident. Merlin had barely known Arthur for less than a year then and somehow the servant had complete and utter faith in him.

" _Merlin, chances are I'm going to die."_

" _Yeah, yeah you probably would if I wasn't there."_

" _Right."_

" _Do you know how many times I've had to save your royal backside?"_

How many times had Merlin saved Arthur's life? He knew of several occasions now, but how many more was he still unaware of? How many times had he let Gauis or others take the glory for his own doings, expecting nothing in return? How many times had he sacrificed for Arthur?

" _Had no idea you were so keen to die for me."_

" _Trust me, I can hardly believe it myself."_

" _I'm glad you're here, Merlin."_

From the very start of their friendship, and even before then when any other servant would have hated him, Merlin was ready to give everything for Arthur. Arthur couldn't explain it, but he had felt the same towards this mouthy, clumsy, loyal stranger.

Arthur's mind was reeling. He had spent so much time believing Merlin to be dead. He had barely had time to overcome the shock of seeing him alive before he found out the truth. It was all too much.

Merlin was alive.

Merlin was a sorcerer.

Yet all those memories still lingered.

If Merlin had magic, why did he take on such a lowly position? Why did he spend day after day doing chores with his hands that he could've completed with a few enchanted words?

Magic in the king's mind could only equal one thing, evil.

And yet there could be no evidence of even a drop of evil inside of Merlin.

He was good, kind, stubborn, selfless, impulsive, clumsy, forgetful, loyal, lazy, uncoordinated, outspoken and sometimes daft – but never evil.

He was merely, Merlin.

He was his servant.

His friend.

Arthur felt the past months wash over him like a bad dream. He darkly remembered all he had said and done. His grief and quest for vengeance had blinded him. He felt the scales peel back from his eyes and the same smother his heart.

Arthur pulled himself out of his thoughts and turned to truly look at his wife, her words still ringing in his ears. Like bells sounding the beginning of a new day. It was a new day. For Arthur was finally awakening from the nightmare.

Closing his eyes, before his knights and before strangers, Arthur humbly fell to his knees. No words were said as the king hung his head, his wife kneeling before him. Guinevere wrapped her husband in a tight embrace, soaking in the silent tears of the broken man.

Their audience quietly and respectfully dispersed, Gwaine and Much both wiping what they would later claim to be dust from their eyes.

"We need a plan," Djaq spoke softly on the other side of the camp.

"Robin always has the plans," Allan lamented.

"Do we have any idea where they'll be taken?" Gwaine questioned.

"This, Morgana, she wants control of Camelot, yes?" Djaq confirmed.

"Apparently more than that," Elyan answered.

"Arthur said she was going to take over England too," Much swallowed.

"Camelot will be her priority," Leon reasoned.

"Do you think she will go back with Arthur alive?" Will asked skeptically.

"Why didn't she just kill them?" Allan sighed.

"There's  _got_ to be a reason she took them," Little John grunted.

"It doesn't matter why she did it," Much argued. "We've got to get them back."

"How?" Will questioned desperately.

"We go after her."

The entire group turned as Arthur strode confidently into the middle of their circle.

"Morgana doesn't like to get her hands dirty. She uses others to do her work for her. Like Morgause with Cenrid. The Doracha. The sheriff. If she took Merlin and Robin, she did so for a reason. She knows Merlin has magic now. She might try to use him."

"Merlin would never help her," Gwen said surely.

"I know," Arthur nodded. "Which is why she might've taken Robin too. Merlin cares little for himself, but he will do anything to protect others, especially his friends. She'll use hurting him to bend Merlin to her will."

"If she  _touches_ Robin, I'll –" Much clenched his fists and teeth.

"Morgana is dangerous," Arthur warned. "She has powers none of us can fight with swords or arrows."

"Then how do we fight her?" John pushed.

"We make a plan," Arthur said with so much certainty and confidence, everyone seemed to straighten.

"What's the plan?" Allan pressed.

 _"We_  make a plan," Arthur repeated, "together. All of us. My men and I know Morgana and Merlin. We know Camelot. You all know Robin and these lands. She will have to cross your territories to get to ours."

"What about the villagers?" John brought up suddenly. "We can't leave them unprotected."

"John," Much turned to the taller man, "this is  _Robin_. And Merlin."

"No," Arthur nodded. "He is right. I've seen the wrath of your sheriff."

"And he won't be too happy with his plans falling through," Allan noted.

"Exactly," Arthur agreed. "I would never abandon my people in a time of need such as this, and I won't abandon yours. Robin and Merlin wouldn't want that. I will send word to Camelot ahead of us and have knights make their way to all the nearby villages and Nottingham. I don't know how long it will take to get Robin and Merlin back. Hopefully we will rescue them before the knights are needed."

"That'll take days," Elyan spoke up soberly.

"And it will leave Camelot vulnerable, my lord," Leon reminded him.

"Sir Galahad will remain in charge of the remaining knights and the protection of Camelot, as he is now," Arthur explained. "I trust him. Camelot has seen peace for some time now. I do not suspect that will change. The only threat to the kingdom right now is Morgana, if we let her reach Camelot." He paused. "Sir Daniel, Sir Lucan, patrol the villages until the others arrive. I do not care about land barriers or rules. Protect the people however you can."

"Two men against the sheriff, Gisbourne and the guards?" Allan lifted his brow.

"They are good knights," Arthur assured the skeptical man. "We will not be far if we are needed. Right now, Robin and Merlin need to be our priorities. If Morgana somehow finds a way to use Merlin and his magic, no one in Camelot or England will be safe. Morgana is traveling, alone, with two captives. Even with magic, this will slow her down. She is still human. She will need to stop and rest. And she won't risk going into Camelot, or Nottingham, without securing her – weapon – first."

"Merlin," Gwaine nodded, a dangerous glint in his dark eyes.

"She will take refuge somewhere on neutral ground, hidden from both kingdoms." Arthur continued.

"You think she's in the forest," Djaq brightened.

"When she was overthrown from Camelot she took refuge in our surrounding woodlands. It is what she knows." Arthur nodded. "Now, let's get to work. Let's get our friends back."


	34. Old Tricks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you're confused why Morgana is calling Merlin the "old man", Morgana still thinks the real Merlin is dead. She thinks Merlin is the old man (Emrys) in disguise as fake Merlin. I think I just confused myself...

The chains around Merlin's wrists rattled as the young wizard slowly began to return to consciousness. Dazed, the sorcerer struggled against the new bonds. His arms felt heavy as they extended above his head. Tilting his head upward, Merlin forced his weary eyes open. His vision blurred and teetered until finally settling on his own two hands. The chains that held him were wrapped around his wrists while the opposite end remained strongly secured to the wall.

He was slumped on the floor, his disfigured legs sprawled out in front of him. He was at least thankful for that. He wasn't sure he could remain conscious if he had been standing.

Lowering his gaze, his eyes froze on a figure across from him. Robin was restrained in the same manner on the opposite wall.

Robin had awoken some time before Merlin and had already tried to break free from his bonds. He also had surveyed their surroundings. They were being kept in a ramshackle dwelling of some sort. A shack or hut. No more than a hovel.

It was then that he had turned his attention to the unconscious sorcerer. Merlin had yet to wake and that worried the outlaw. The man was still bruised and broken and bleeding from his time in the dungeons. He silently feared that whatever the witch had done to them had just been to much for Merlin's battered body.

So when the man's eyelids cracked ever so slowly open, Robin couldn't help the joy that warmed his heart. He watched as the sorcerer crawled closer to consciousness and waited until Merlin's eyes met his, recognition setting in behind the haze.

The words that he heard crack from Merlin's lips were not what Robin was expecting.

"I'm sorry."

Despite the utter agony the sorcerer must have been enduring, despite his own captivity, Merlin's voice and face showed much more concern for his companion than himself. Robin couldn't help but admire his friend.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Robin shook his head.

Merlin failed to understand how someone could be so accepting of him and then so self-sacrificing for him. He couldn't help but admire his friend.

"Morgana," Merlin muttered. "She's my problem. Not yours. You shouldn't be here."

"And the sheriff was my problem," Robin challenged, "and yet you stayed."

"Why?" Merlin swallowed suddenly. "Why did you come for me? After -"

"You're one of us," Robin supplied simply. "No matter what. We don't turn our backs on our family."

"Thank you," Merlin's voice and eyes were brimmed with tears.

Robin offered him a knowing smile before he returned to his task of trying to escape. The outlaw continued to test his bindings and search his surroundings. He wasn't going to give up.

"Can you heal your legs?" Robin asked almost nonchalantly as he kept working, as if he asked the question on daily basis.

"Maybe," Merlin mumbled.

"What is it?" Robin ceased his quest momentarily to look his friend in the eye.

"My magic," Merlin breathed. "When I use it - bad things happen. Sometimes, I hurt people."

"Merlin, bad things can happen when I use my bow. I have hurt people. Innocent people. But I can do good with it too. I can save lives. So can you."

"You're not afraid?" Merlin squeaked.

"My father used to tell me that 'you shouldn't stand by and let something terrible happen because you were too scared to do the right thing'."

"But are you?" Merlin parroted himself. "Afraid?"

"Sometimes," Robin admitted with a small nod.

"Are you scared of - of me?" Merlin whispered.

"Never." The single word shook with strength and sincerity.

"Don't be so certain."

The two prisoners both snapped their heads to the door as their capture entered.

"I hold no fear of you either," Robin bit off bravely.

"I can soon change that," Morgana smiled sourly. "Soon you will come to fear us both. And then you will be dead."

"I would never hurt him," Merlin vowed vehemently.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Emrys," Morgana warned. "Surely you remember the Femora. After all, you did steal them from me and somehow managed to free that useless Merlin from my hold."

Merlin's eyes darkened and he exchanged a quick glance with a confused Robin.

"Don't you ever come up with any new tricks?" Merlin tried to sound confident.

"Why change something that works so  _painfully_ well?" Morgana teased.

"Didn't work before," Merlin challenged almost cockily.

"That was because I tried to use  _Merlin_ ," Morgana scoffed. "That useless oaf of a servant couldn't kill a fly if his very life depended on it. No. This time, I will choose someone with power. Someone who I  _know_ will get the job done."

" ' .Anyone," Merlin punctuated each word.

"Why do you fight me?" The witch argued angrily. "You have already tried to kill Arthur before. You should want him dead as much as I."

"You have no idea as to what I want," Merlin ground out, his voice gravelly. "You do not know me. You do not know Arthur. You no longer know yourself."

"Arthur left you in that cell," Morgana hissed. "He cares not for you, nor anyone else with magic."

"And you care for no one but yourself," Merlin leveled his glare upon the witch.

"You will think more kindly of me soon," Morgana mused. "You will kill Arthur for me. Camelot will be mine. Then I will take England and kill anyone else who dares to stand against me."

"England will never fall to you," Robin cut into the conversation with course words.

"Aw," Morgana knelt before the outlaw and cradled his chin in her hands. "So brave, and yet so stupid."

She dropped his face, but not before slapping her palm against his cheek.

"I'm going to take pleasure in watching you die."

Morgana made her way over to a now writhing Merlin. The young sorcerer knew exactly what she coming to do and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop her, or himself, once she was done.

His magic reacted violently to the thought. It pulsed out of him like a great wave. Morgana's body flew backwards into the wall as Merlin's shackles fell to the floor. Robin's did the same and the man wasted no time in leaping to his feet. The rogue hurried to Merlin's side with a fleeting glance at the witch.

"Time to go," Robin spoke as he hefted the young man's weight over his shoulder once more.

They were exiting the stable when Robin felt his feet lose the ground beneath them. Both men went tumbling forward under the force of the offending magic.

With quick words, Morgana sent the fallen chains flying and then around Merlin's body. Before he could realize what was happening, Morgana hissed another swift spell. The chains became bound by magic instantly. Merlin painfully remembered this spell well and knew how useless his powers were against it.

Despite still not desiring to use magic, Merlin was left with no choice. He was trapped. Robin did not have to be.

Just as he saw Morgana eyeing the other set of chains, Merlin swiftly spat out a spell. Robin, who had been still rising to his feet, was suddenly sent sailing. The man whipped through the air and trees, landing, to his speechless surprise, safely in a field of grass, far away from the two magical creatures.

Merlin scanned the small surroundings. It was someone's home. In the middle of the forest it appeared as though someone had taken this area up as home. Merlin guessed it had been someone hiding from the sheriff. The humble house and ramshackle stable appeared as though it was put together almost overnight. Easier to tear down if discovered, Merlin surmised. Whoever had taken up refuge and residence here was nowhere in sight now. Merlin prayed that they had left long ago. He feared for their fate if they had still been here when Morgana arrived.

"Clever," the witch mused. "But you only prolong the inevitable, old man."

Merlin wasn't listening. He reached his head toward the sky, his magic unwilling to allow him to give up. His powers and voice cried out for the Great Dragon. Merlin couldn't stop what was about to be done to him, but maybe he could still save the others. Kilgharra would never arrive in time to stop Morgana, but he could stop Merlin.

"What are you doing?" Morgana demanded. "What did you just do?"

Merlin refused to answer, his hopeful, and almost happy, eyes fixed upon the sky.

"Never mind," Morgana cursed. "I won't allow you another chance to escape, Emrys."

Morgana kicked Merlin so that he collapsed forward, his face falling into the ground.


	35. Goodbye, Emrys

Robin heaved himself off the ground, whipping his head around in the direction he had come from. He had landed safely, almost softly. He knew it had to have been Merlin that sent him away and not Morgana. The young wizard was protecting him.

Robin wasn't about to leave his friend alone though. The outlaw charged through the field as fast as his weary legs would carry him. He was still quite a far distance away when he suddenly stopped. A large shadow darkened the grass and the sky above. Robin craned his neck to get a glimpse of the source.

What he saw made his jaw come loose. He couldn't help but swallow and slowly take steps backwards.

The giant beast circled above him and then careened towards the ground below. Robin readied himself as the creature landed, shaking the soil beneath both of their feet.

"Peace, young Locksley. I wish you no harm."

Robin wasn't quite sure what surprised him more, that the monster was there, that it could speak, or that it knew his name. He couldn't even form words, let alone thoughts.

"I am here to help," the beast continued, "although I would rather not do this. I have no choice but to obey. Hurry. Climb on my back. I will take you to your friends and safety."

"I – I – can't," Robin started slowly, still trying to believe his own eyes. "My friend –"

"Merlin has instructed me to take you away from here, even if I have to use force."

"Merlin?" Robin gasped. "Merlin –"

"Is my master," the creature explained. "I am the last dragon, as he is the last dragon lord. I must obey his command and he has commanded me to take you to safety."

"But what about him?" Robin demanded.

"I do not want to leave him," the dragon explained, "but I have no choice. What a dragon lord says, a dragon must obey. Hurry on my back or I will carry you in my claws."

Robin reluctantly did as the creature commanded, hesitant about trusting this being he still wasn't convinced wasn't a dream, and not desiring to abandon his friend. He climbed carefully onto the dragon's back, clinging to its scales.

"Hang on," the old voice commanded.

This time Robin didn't hesitate to obey as the monster lifted itself off the ground and they took off through the air. Robin had never experienced anything such as this. The wind beating against his face and the amazing scenery that flashed by below was almost enough to cause him to forget all else that troubled him. He imagined he was one of his arrows, whizzing and cutting through the sky.

Before he had barely begun to enjoy the experience, they were already landing. Robin leapt down and searched his wooded surroundings.

"Your friends are just beyond that ridge," the dragon answered Robin's unspoken question.

"Can you help us save Merlin?" Robin pressed. "Can't  _you_ stop Morgana?"

"I would wish nothing more than to turn the witch to ash," the beast bellowed, "but I must go. Merlin ordered me to bring you to safety. He also commanded me to kill him if he tries to hurt any of you. That, I cannot and will not do. Though he did not order me to stay. I cannot kill him if I am not here. I will go. You and the others must save him, and yourselves."

"How?"

"Morgana has used a magical creature to take hold of Merlin's mind. You must kill the mother, the beast that bore the one infecting Merlin. Only then will he be free from Morgana's hold over him."

"Where do I find it?"

"That, I do not know." The dragon bowed his head. "I am sorry. I wish you luck. Save Merlin. I must go now."

Before Robin could say anymore to the creature, it lifted its great body into the tops of the trees and disappeared above the forest canopy.

For a moment, Robin simply stood there, attempting to process all that had and was happening.

* * *

Merlin would have been grateful for the healing spell Morgana had used on his limbs had he not known the true purpose behind her actions. It was a long and painful process even still. The witch had carried him back into the hut and was still applying further poultice and reciting another incantation. The spell would not be immediate. He would need rest.

Though he highly doubted Morgana was going to grant it.

He was teetering on the edge, back and forth, coming in and out of consciousness while she worked. He wasn't sure how much time had passed when his body finally felt whole again. The healing of his physical wounds did nothing, though, for the breaking of his heart when he saw Morgana approach with the all too familiar monster.

He tried to struggle, to pull himself away, anything. Even if it was futile, he wouldn't just lay down and let it happen.

Merlin felt the creature puncture the skin of his neck. With a piercing scream, Merlin crumpled over, convulsing. He was trying to fight it this time. He knew now what the creature was capable of. His body shivered as his strength against the magic faded and he slowly fell into the beast's grasp.

"Shh," Morgana cooed and then cackled when Merlin finally ceased his struggles. "There now, that's better."

Morgana magically removed the chains that bound her slave and knelt beside him, her lips brushing against his ear.

"You are going to kill Arthur Pendragon," she whispered. "You will kill him and anyone that stands in your way. You will make his death painful and slow and then you will kill anyone with him that calls Arthur their friend - his knights - and his  _queen_. When you succeed, you will then kill yourself."

Shoving his face once more into the ground, Morgana stood triumphantly.

"Goodbye, Emrys."


	36. This Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello there. For those of you that are still aboard this flight, I sincerely thank you and can't apologize enough for the delay. As you've probably already read from other work notes or replies from me, the original files for this story were lost a long time ago and some were only just recently found. When I lost all my files, I was devastated and had a hard time finding the motivation to finish them. I hope ya'll can accept my deepest apologies and still enjoy the rest of this story.

Arthur and the others had spent the day splitting into teams and scouring the forest. Alan and Little John had both offered suggestions of known rock ledges and other places that could be used for dwellings. And yet, by the day’s near closing, there had been no success for any of the search parties. 

They had agreed upon a meeting place, each group having one member of Robin Hood’s gang to navigate the woods and lead the outsiders to the secret location. It wasn’t the gang’s base of operations, but they had established it as a meeting grounds long ago and it also acted as their emergency secondary home, should their hideaway ever be compromised. 

The final pairs were just gathering with the others when a certain outlaw broke through the trees in a burst of leaves and shallow breaths. 

“Robin!” Much leapt to his swollen feet. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you and Merlin!” The servant stopped short, eyes scanning behind his master. “Where - where is he?”

“What happened? Where’s Merlin?” Arthur demanded, not unkindly, stepping forward.

“The witch has him,” Robin swallowed after a pained pause. “He used his magic to save me, but he couldn’t save himself. She has used something. A magical creature of some kind to take hold of Merlin’s mind. To use him against us. To control him.”

“What?” Allan scoffed. “How’s that possible? That can’t be right.”

“No,” Gwen shook her head, “it’s true. I’ve seen something like it before. Remember, not long before he left, Merlin went missing after you were attacked by those mercenaries? He wasn’t just missing. Something was  _ done  _ to him. He wasn’t himself. He tried to kill you, Arthur. There was this  _thing_ inside of him. Gaius figured it out. It's like - a parasite."

"Morgana called it a Femorrah," Robin nodded.

"Well, what can we do?" Djaq stood.

"We have to kill the creature," Robin answered apprehensively.

"We tried that," Gwen shook her head. "Gaius cut the thing out of Merlin's neck and threw it in the fire and another just grew back in its place."

"No," Robin corrected, "not the one infecting Merlin. We have to kill the mother." Robin echoed the dragon's words. "Only then will he be free from Morgana's hold over him."

"So where is this beast?" Gwaine gripped the hilt of his sword.

"In a hut in the forest where the witch was holding us," Robin tilted his head back in the direction. 

"So, to get to the creature," Will swallowed, "we have to get through Morgana?"

"Morgana doesn't  stay in any place longer than she has to - unless that place is the throne of Camelot," Arthur crossed his arms. "She may not even be there anymore."

"Well then," Gwaine grinned darkly, "what are we waiting for? Let's go kill this thing."

"Wait," Robin held up a hand, "traveling in such a large group will be dangerous. Since our escape and Morgana's betrayal, the sheriff and Gisbourne and their men will be out looking for all of us."

"So we're being hunted by our friend, a witch,  _and_ the sheriff," Alan ticked off on his fingers. "Great."

"If we move through the forest," Robin continued, "we should do so in small numbers. But most of us should stay here."

"What?" Will protested in unison with Gwaine and Arthur.

"It's safer here," Robin urged. "Listen. We are  _all_ in danger, but the sheriff's targets are Morgana, and the king and queen. Morgana's target, is Arthur. And Merlin's target, is Arthur. Not only are you the one that is the most at risk," Robin turned the man now, "but you are also a king. If Morgana's true goal is to rule over Camelot, we will only make her task that much easier if we let you get killed."

"He is right," Djaq nodded. "We have never used this place since Merlin has joined us. I do not believe he knows of it. The sheriff and his men and Morgana do not know of it either. This is the safest place for you," she turned to smile at the queen, "both of you."

"I will take one of my men and one of yours with me to find this creature and destroy it," Robin announced.

"Leon," Arthur nodded at his friend, "go with him."

The knight bowed his head in response, crossing the camp to join the outlaw.

"Allan," Robin motioned for the man to join him.

"Are you sure taking  _him_ is a good idea?" Little John grunted, thrusting an accusatory thumb at the former traitor.

"He's coming with me," Robin replied firmly.

"Then so am I," Much stepped forward, hands planted stiffly on his hips.

"Much -"

"No," the servant interrupted his former master. "Where you go, I go. Especially if where you go, is where he goes," Much pointed at Allan, "then it's definitely where I go."

"Alright, fine," Robin lifted his hands. "Everyone else,  _stay here_. Give us one hour. If we're not back, John, Djaq and Gwaine can track us. If you're found, you know where to go," he glanced at this friends.

"They get to have all the fun," Gwaine crossed his arms."

"Destroy this beast," Arthur shook Robin's hand. "And be safe."

The king patted his knight's shoulder after clasping his hand.

They all finished their farewells and the others watched as the four disappeared into the forest on their mission. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is already AU, can we please pretend that "A Servant of Two Masters" happened BEFORE "The Wicked Day". I mixed up the episode order and already wrote the last chapters as though Merlin had been under the effects of the Femorrah before and I used dialogue in this chapter of Gwen talking about the Femorrah. So...um...can we play pretend pretty please?


	37. Rather Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some action and drama! Dun dun dun.

Darkness had stitched its way across the forest now and the camp had long since drawn silent. Yet not one of them was sleeping. No, this was a different breed of quiet. An anxious waiting. A hushed horror.

The hour Robin gave them was nearly spent and for every second that passed them by, it was another second that they had yet to return. Another moment longer that they were being hunted by not only the sheriff and Morgana, but by one of their own.

They did not desire to face an of their foes, but none of them wanted to even consider the option of having to fight against their friend.

It was in the middle of this stillness that a single sound broke through. And then another. And one more.

It was the terrifying sound of the knights and outlaws, one by one, crumbling to the ground. They dropped where they stood and sat from some phantom blow.

Arthur readied his sword at the obvious sorcery surrounding them, holding tight to his weapon in one hand, and his wife with the other.

That is until the queen too finally descended into the same sudden slumber. 

Arthur twisted the hilt of his sword tightly, wide eyes scanning the trees for their faceless attacker. 

They had been discovered.

The king found himself praying that it was Morgana.

All his hopes came crashing down to the forest floor, though, as a familiar figure formed out of the shadows. 

Arthur watched as Merlin approached their camp. The king could see something different in his old servant's eyes, even in the darkness. Yet something familiar still sparked there. 

"Merlin," Arthur stated carefully.

"Arthur." Merlin was almost smiling, but it was a grin Arthur never knew his friend to wear.

"You don't need to do this, Merlin." Arthur kept his weapon risen in a defensive position only, making no move to strike. "Let me help you."

"Help me?" Merlin's features fell into the darkness. "You left me."

"That was wrong and I'm sorry." Arthur didn't back away as Merlin drew closer.

"Sorry?" Merlin scoffed. "Sorry! I saved your life! I sacrificed  _everything_ for you! And what do I get in return? 'Clean my socks, Merlin', 'Muck out the stables, Merlin', 'Stay here in the cell to  _die_ , Merlin'."

"This isn't you," Arthur shook his head, swallowing down the way that final sentence stabbed him worse than any sword.

"How do you know?" Merlin shouted. "You don't know me! This is who I am!"

Merlin clenched his fist and Arthur instantly felt his throat constrict. His hands instinctively reached up to his neck, dropping his sword in the action.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Merlin laughed. "You wanted me to be evil. Because I have magic. This is the real me. I finally can stop pretending, hiding who I am. What I can do."

With his final words, Merlin lifted his hand and Arthur slid backward, slamming against a tree.

"No, Merlin," Arthur grunted, "this isn't you, but there's part of you still in there. Otherwise, you would've just killed them," he nodded at his fallen friends.

"Still will if they get in my way," Merlin shrugged. "Besides, I'm not supposed to kill them until  _after_ I kill  _you_."

"Merlin, you're not a killed -"

"I've killed for you!" Merlin challenged. "Everything I did, was for you!"

Arthur felt his body press harder against the tree. He wondered idly if he was sinking into the bark. If Merlin would trap him inside this tree. Without warning, the king was lifted into the air, the bark cutting into his back. Arthur groaned and Merlin smiled.

"Should've kept your armor on," he teased.

"I wasn't going to fight you," Arthur ground his teeth against the pain.

"But you're  _so_ good at it. Using me for training like I'm just some target."

"I won't hurt you."

"Too late," Merlin frowned. "You already did."

Arthur flipped through the air, landing with a crack and a shout on his back. Merlin sauntered over to where the king's sword had been cast aside. Picking it up, the dragonlord examined the weapon, brow drawn.

"You wouldn't have this sword without me," Merlin brought the blade to Arthur's chest. "You wouldn't be king. You wouldn't be alive."

"I know," Arthur breathed out the words in a single puff of air and shame.

"You don't deserve to live."

Merlin raised the sword, only to cock his head to the side when Arthur closed his eyes.

"Why don't you fight back?" It was a demand, not a question.

"I told you," Arthur opened his eyes, connected with his friend's. "I would rather die than hurt you again."

Merlin lifted the blade above his head as Arthur let his lids fall, waiting for the piercing pain. For it to all be over. And yet, it did not come. Nothing did.

Warily, Arthur blinked, finding Merlin in the same position, sword still lifted high. The servant's eyes, though, had changed. His irises clashed from cold certainty to confusion. From anger to agony.

The blade finally fell from Merlin's now trembling hands as the sorcerer slowly stumbled backward.

"Merlin?" Arthur sat up, reaching for his friend.

"Stay back!" Merlin shouted, thrusting his arms forward and then suddenly crashing to his knees with a strangled shriek.

The pained screams that tore through Merlin's throat were almost as agonizing to Arthur as the sword would have been.

Merlin clawed at the back of his neck wildly, writhing and groaning.

"Merlin." Arthur was now standing and moving closer to the man.

"I said, 'stay back'!" Merlin jerked bodily onto the ground. "Arthur," he gasped, "run. Please."

"No," the king stepped toward his fallen friend. "I won't leave you. Not this time."

"You - have to. I'll kill - you." 

"No, you won't." Arthur shook his head and knelt down, seizing the struggling sorcerer by the shoulders. "Merlin, you are the strongest, bravest, noblest and kindest and  _good_ man I know. There isn't an evil bone in your body. Nothing changes that.  _Nothing_. I will not leave you."

"I - I - I can't -" Merlin screamed, his head careening back while his frame fractured in on itself. "Go! Now!"

"No."

"Then die!" Merlin shot his hand forward once more, sending Arthur back to his favorite unwelcoming tree.

Merlin's eyes were black again as he rose to his feet and whispered ancient words. Arthur's body thrashed and convulsed from an agony that boiled from somewhere deep within him. It was unlike any physical pain he had ever endured. The torment tore at his very soul, searing and scratching it. Every piece of him, inside and out, burned. His lungs constricted and bile and blood rose up to coat and cage his throat.

"Morgana wants me to make your death painfully slow," Merlin's mouth twitched as he waved his hand, releasing the man from his magic. "I think I'll have fun. Maybe start with an arm."

Arthur watched helplessly as Merlin thrust the blade down and his vision went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, if Arthur doesn't fight back, Gwen and his friends will also get killed. He's not a moron. He just refuses to hurt Merlin again. He also thinks that maybe by not fighting back, it will snap Merlin out of it because he knows Merlin would never really hurt him, but if Merin DOES kill him while Arthur isn't fighting back, that also might snap him out of it. Make sense?
> 
> Also, I don't know why that 2nd note is showing up below about things starting slow. That is a note from MANY chapters ago! I can't get it to stop showing up so just ignore it. Or, if it goes away and you can't see it, then just ignore me. Win-win!


	38. Because of You

Arthur couldn't breathe. He couldn't move, or even think. In that moment, Arthur saw nothing. Knew nothing. He became, nothing.

Everything seemed to happen at half speed and when time finally caught up with itself, Arthur wasn't ready.

The king's eyes were wild and wide; his face ashen. A pain flared in his gut that didn't stem from magic, stretching out to reach his limbs. 

Even as he tried to stand, his knees buckled.

Just in time to catch Merlin.

Arthur couldn't tear his horrified gaze away from the shining object that now had made its home in his friend's stomach.

A sword.

His sword. 

Arthur's arms were working again suddenly and they shot out, cradling Merlin's collapsing form. The young sorcerer rolled over onto his back, round eyes somehow filled with a calmness and clarity, if but for a moment.

"Merlin," Arthur whispered, "always were an idiot."

"Prat," Merlin coughed and then cringed. "It's my destiny - to protect - you. I'm - it's all right. I can die - happy. With you alive."

"Shut up, Merlin. You're not going to die."

"Even you're not that thick. Don't need Gaius to see I'm a dead man," Merlin mumbled and then moaned, still trying to tease even while in torment. "Arthur, please, finish this. I'm dying, but not fast enough. I - I can't - hold it in. I can't keep it back. I - I don't - want to die - under its control. Under  _her_ control. Please."

"I already told you," Arthur straightened, "I'm not going to kill you, Merlin."

"Not asking you - to kill me. I'm already dead. I - I'm asking you to - save me."

Arthur sucked in a sharp breath and shook his head.

"You never listen to me," Merlin sighed shakily.

"Nor you me," Arthur chuckled against a stifled sob.

Merlin's eyelids clamped closed as his body began to quiver. This was not the sword's doing.

"Please, Arthur. If it takes over - I'll kill you."

"You're not that strong," Arthur's teasing didn't quite reach his tone.

Without warning, Arthur dropped Merlin to the ground. The king grasped his head in his hands. A scream with a sickening sound Arthur had never heard himself make before slipped past his lips. Blood dripped from his nose and slid in slender lines from the corners of his mouth as he coughed and choked and -

And then, just as quickly as it had come, the pain was gone. 

Arthur slumped forward, greedily gasping in large breaths. The thick sticky liquid that had been drowning him, he now heaved onto the forest floor. Strands of stray blood stuck to his lips, dangling down. With a grunt, the king wiped away the leftover liquid. Panting, Arthur crawled over to his friend.

Merlin lay on his back, his own breathing haggard and shallow. And yet, his eyes were clear and it seemed that a crooked smile of sorts was playing at the corner of his quaking lips.

"Arthur," he spoke in a strangled voice that made the king cringe. "It's gone.  _Gone_."

Arthur bowed his head in relief and grief, silently thanking the outlaw leader and the others while cursing them for being two minutes too late.

"Good to have you back," Arthur forced a grim grin.

Merlin's laugh dissolved into a crackling cough.

"Think it's time to take your sword back," Merlin glanced at the metal as his smile didn't quite meet his eyes.

"If I pull it out, you'll die." Arthur's voice was a painting of authority and anxiety.

"I thought I was the physician."

" _Assistant_ ," Arthur corrected. "You're an assistant and a servant. I think your head's gotten big."

"Never be as big as yours." Merlin's eyes fell away from his friend and toward the sky. "Tell Robin and everyone 'thanks' for me. Tell them that - I'm sorry."

"You can tell them yourself," Arthur argued, even he knew it was naive. 

"Like I said - even you're not that stupid," Merlin struggled to swallow. "Help them. Nottingham needs help - England needs your help. Then, go back. Make things right in Camelot."

"You think too much of me, Merlin," Arthur shook his head. "You're the great one of the two of us."

"You'll be great - without me." Merlin's assurance was unflinching and Arthur wasn't sure if that was unsettling or something else entirely. "I know it."

"Merlin," Arthur began brokenly, "Merlin, I am so sorry. For everything. For all I have done. For every time I hurt you or didn't trust you or didn't listen. For everything you have lost. And for what was taken from you. What  _I_ took from you. You have suffered in silence your whole life. All these years, serving in Camelot. Remaining a servant when you could have been seeking out power or riches, or at least a decent change of clothes." They both laughed and it was a sweet song that Arthur couldn't let himself stop and think how he'd never hear that melody again. "I will never begin to understand all that you have done, all you have sacrificed, and why you have done so. And I'll never be able to atone for the wrongs I've done to you."

"You don't need to," Merlin's voice was wavering, but his words remained strong. "I - I forgive you. And I - I would ask that you do the same for me, but I can't."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur swallowed his shock. "You have done nothing wrong."

"No wrong?' Merlin winced. "I - I killed - your father. It was - an accident. But I did it."

"No, Merlin," Arthur bowed his head, "that wasn't your fault. Gaius told Gwaine the truth and Gwaine told me. It was Morgana. She cast a spell. Merlin, listen to me. My father's death was  _not_ your fault. You must believe that."

"Morgana?" Merlin blinked and then his drooping eyes snapped open. "Gwaine? He - he's  _alive_?"

"Bit of a miracle, if you ask me. I think the man opens his mouth and picks fights to  _try_ to get himself killed." Arthur paused at the curious look crossing his friend's face. "Why?"

"I - I thought - I thought - the stairs -" Merlin didn't even try to stem the tears.

"You thought you killed him," Arthur sighed soberly. "Oh, Merlin. I am sorry. You truly have suffered far too much. Gwaine is alive. He never stopped looking for you. Never gave up. He was so stubborn. Gaius had to eventually tell him the truth. He followed you all the way here. He's right over there."

The sorcerer scanned his fallen friends until he found that familiar face and his own lit up with laughter. He didn't care that it hurt. He didn't care that the tears made it harder to breathe. He only cared that the man, the beautiful, reckless man who had seen so often in his nightmares was right there beside them, very much alive.

"Tell him," Merlin was still smiling, but his lips continued to twitch and tremble. "Tell him that I'm grateful. And that -" Merlin's features contorted and a sort of gurgling groan crawled from his throat. "I - I'm using the last of my magic to hang on. To stay alive - longer. I could wake them up sooner, to say goodbye, but there wouldn't be enough - time. My magic is almost gone. I'm - sorry."

"So much of who I am today," the words stumbled out of Arthur's mouth suddenly and slowly at once, "is because of you. You were supposed to serve me. Instead, you taught me. Guided me."

"As did you me," Merlin nodded, grinning. "I did what I did, because of you. I am - who I am - because of you."

"There was something else I wanted to say," Arthur drew in a deep breath. "Something I've never said to you before -"

He paused as Merlin's eyelids began to draw closed before he could say more.

"Merlin?" Arthur grabbed his friends face in both hands. "Merlin!"

There was no reply. Merlin's eyes remained shut, his smile forever decorating his lips in death. 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I know, starts a bit slow. Picks up soon! Oh, and if you're wondering why Merlin refuses to use his magic, you're not supposed to know – yet. Let's just say 4x3 of Merlin went a TAD differently.


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